


Red on the Walls

by MsMK



Series: One-shot Collections [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends Turned Lovers, Biting, Broken Heart, Cancer, Cheating, Cuckolding, Death, Dom Papyrus, Dry Humping, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Soulmate, MILF, Marking, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Reader Death, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Revenge Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soul Sex, Ssiyc bonus, Sub Papyrus, Submission, Swearing, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Underfell, Underfell Sans, Upperfell, Voyeurism, dom reader, forgiving a cheater, light Violence, monster hybrid baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 74,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMK/pseuds/MsMK
Summary: One Shot Series.Underfell: Sans is the best thing to ever happen to you...until the day you find him with another woman. When he refuses to let you leave, you have to decide whether you should forgive his transgressions, punish him, or both.I've turned this into a series of One Shots about the Fell bros, Ch. 1 & 2 are alternate endings so I will keep the same summary.Smut chapters marked as *





	1. Cheater

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea while writing my other fics, and I needed a break from them to get to know Underfell Sans again.  
> And so, this beauty was born.

You loved him.

Even though he was fearsome, even though he was a monster, even though he was a sadist and a masochist and had killed countless others.

You loved him despite his glaring personality flaws, despite his penchant for violence, despite his lewd remarks and debasing words.

You loved him because underneath it all he was sensitive. He was caring. He was in need of a love like yours, someone to hold him when he cries at night, when the nightmares are too real, someone who will wipe his brow when he sweats through a fever, someone who will touch him gently and kiss him fiercely. He needed your love. And you needed his, a powerful force of nature who would do anything for you, who would fight back the darkness surrounding you, who would tell you he loved you every single day.

You loved him because he was Sans, and simply that, and never claimed to be anything else. You loved him for his honesty. You loved him for his sense of loyalty. You loved him for the laughter you shared in the dead of night when everything else around you was falling apart, but he was holding you so tight that you couldn’t shatter.

In the two years since you earned his eye at a bus stop, he had never made you question that you loved him, or the reasons why.

Honesty. Loyalty. Passion.

So when you found him in your bed, with a wispy blonde thing you’d never met, you weren’t sure if you could believe your eyes.

When the shock wore off, as he untangled himself from her, you felt the rage building in your chest. Relax, y/n, it’s not her fault. Maybe she didn’t know he had a girlfriend.

“This is your girlfriend?” The girl laughed, and Sans didn’t respond, frozen underneath her naked body. “Wow, no wonder you brought me ho--”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

You had grabbed a fistful of her long bleach-blonde hair and dragged her off of him, slamming her on the ground with enough force to make her head bounce. She shrieked as you punched her square in the jaw, and you threw her skanky clothes at her whimpering body.

“L e a v e.” You snarled, and she skittered quickly out of the room, fear in her eyes.

You didn’t look at him.

“sweetheart.”

You marched to the closet and dragged out your purple suitcase.

“darlin’.”

You threw it open on the ground and stomped over to the dresser.

“hey, i’m talkin’ to ya.”

You slammed the drawers open, grabbing fistfuls of clothes and throwing them into the open suitcase.

Skeletal hands wrapped around your wrist, preventing you from grabbing another fistful.

“i said, hey.”

You shook him off and stalked out of the room to the bathroom. You began to pull everything out of the medicine cabinet. When you stormed back into the room, all the clothes from your suitcase had been unpacked and replaced into the still-open drawers. You threw your medicines and toothbrush in the bag and went back to the dresser.

You ran square into his sternum, bouncing off his soft white t-shirt. He had at least put his fucking pants back on.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Sans.” You said, deathly calm. He crossed his huge arms, crimson eyes staring down at you.

“so you can pack more of your shit? no. you ain’t leavin’.”

You groaned in frustration and turned on your heel, heading to the closet. You pulled out your clothes, throwing some in the suitcase and the ones he specifically bought you on the floor.

You felt a tug and you flew across the room, slamming into his ribcage. He flipped you around with his magic and gripped your upper arms, effectively holding you in place as he lowered himself to your eye level.

“t h a t’ s   **e n o u g h** .” He growled, digging his fingers into your arms. You finally looked up at him, and for the first time you felt the tears finally pricking your eyes.

“Don’t you  _ fucking _ touch me, Sans.” You said through gritted teeth, tensing up all over and leaning away from him. “I don’t even wanna look at you right now. Let me  _ go _ !”

“oh, good, you know how  **i feel** .” He snarled, effortlessly holding you against your struggles. You stopped and stared at him. The fuck did he mean by that?! “yeah, don’t play innocent with me,  _ princess _ , i know you been cheatin’ on me. how’s it feel? how’s the betrayal sittin’ in  _ your _ heart?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

He shook you a little, pulling you closer as he backed you up against the wall.

“fuck you! you think i don’t got earholes? every damn monster in this town knows you’re mine, and every one of ‘em tells me you’re sneakin’ away to see a little secret at muffet’s every thursday. for months i been ignorin’ those rumors, so don’t you  _ fucking _ tell me you don’t know!”

“Sans, I have no idea what you’re fucking talking about, now  _ get off me _ !”

“let’s see if you know this, then, sweetheart.” he loomed over you, pointed teeth bared in a grimace. “i saw you, last thursday, at muffet’s. brown hair, blue eyes, real sweet number with a charmin’ smile. and you were all over ‘im, huggin’ and laughin’.”

Realization dawned on you, and it only made you angrier. You shoved him back off of you.

“That’s my cousin! He’s dating  _ Muffet _ for fuck’s sake!” You shouted, hands balling into fists to try and subside the tremble in your voice. “AND I fucking told you I’d be seeing him on Thursdays to help him make arrangements for his fucking daughter!”

You slammed a fist into his sternum. It didn’t affect him, but your words did. His eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

“You fucking asshole! How fucking  _ dare you _ !” You screamed, beating his chest in anger. “Honesty? Loyalty? Passion? Do those mean  _ nothing _ to you?”

“i...i…” He backed up a step, but you followed, hands still beating at his chest. It hurt as you struck his bone, but you ignored it, rage spilling over. He had done this  _ specifically _ to hurt you. To get back at you for something you didn’t do. 

“You didn’t even talk to me! You didn’t even ask! You just went out and fucked some bitch like it was  _ nothing _ !”

“sweetheart, please stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself…”

“Don’t fucking call me that! I am not your sweetheart anymore!” You shoved him back, making a beeline for the dresser again. You shoved some clothes in your bag and zipped it. You’d come back for the rest later.

“babydoll, please stop, let me talk to y--”

“Too fucking late!” You picked the bag up by the handle, but suddenly it was gone. You whirled to face him, your cheeks red from screaming. “Give it back.”

Sans didn’t budge, and the suitcase floating above his head disappeared. “oops. now ya can’t go.”

“Ugh! You are an insufferable brat!” You shrieked, kicking a discarded dress across the floor. You turned to leave without your bag, but his hand closed around your wrist and he pinned you to the wall.

“i will teleport the clothes right off your fucking body and force you to stay if i have to.” His breath was hot on your neck, and you squirmed underneath his grip. You knew it was useless at this point, because he was so much stronger than you. You went deadweight in his hands and he caught you. “oh c’mon, now that’s just childish.”

“Fuck you.” You retorted and he sighed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder effortlessly, making his way back to the bed. You started hitting him on the back. “Hey, let me go! Fuck off!”

“stop squirmin’ or i might drop ya on your head.”

He did drop you, but it was with a soft  _ poff _ onto the bed. You immediately turned away from him, curling up on your usual side by the wall. You felt the weight as he sat down on his side, and adjusted yourself so you wouldn’t roll into him.

There was a long silence, leaving you to stew in your feelings as he tried to think of what to say.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed, as his fingers brushed your shoulder. He reluctantly obeyed.

You couldn’t see him with your back turned, and the tears flowed silently down your face. You had never been so angry in your entire life, so hurt…

You weren’t able to hold back a choked sob as it escaped your lips, and you curled into yourself. His hand hesitantly brushed your shoulder, but you were too emotionally exhausted to yell at him anymore. He gently held your shoulder, and you turned farther away, burying your head in your pillow.

“hey...sweetheart…” His voice sounded hoarse, upset. Good. Fucker.

“Go away.” You whined shakily, but he didn’t obey this time.

“babydoll...please don’t shut me out.”

“And why not?”

He didn’t have an answer to that. You heard silence for a few seconds, and then his large arms wrapped around you, trembling, and he buried his face in your shoulder.

“just please...i’m no good at apologies but...and...an’ i know i fucked up...i was just so angry...so jealous...so stupid…”

You lay despondent in his arms, the energy sapped from your muscles as the reality hit you. You loved him. You still did. You trusted him, and he failed you...and on purpose…

“i know i ain’t worth it, but gimme another chance, sweetheart...please.”

“Don’t.”

“c’mon, babe…you know i love you.”

“Sans, please.” you choked out over a sob. “You’re making it worse.” You shouldn’t have talked. Sobs began to shake your body as you gave in to the tears, and his face moved to your hair, whispering to you.

“ohhh baby...no nonono, don’t do that, don’t cry…”

“Sh-shut up!” You gasped between sobs. Don’t cry?! How could you not?!

Against your will, you were flipped to face him, and his hands cupped your face, red tongue gently licking your tears away. Your hands bunched up in the fabric of his white shirt, anger welling anew. But your body wouldn’t allow you to fight anymore, and you gave in to the need to be held by him.

When you stopped refusing his touch, he held you close gently, one hand on the small of your back and the other tangled in your hair. He played with your hair gently while you sobbed. Your weakness.

“shhhh...don’t cry babydoll…” Tears threatened his voice as he tried to comfort you, making your sobs grow heavier and your trembling get worse.

“I….I just…” you choked out, burying your face in his shirt. “I...can’t…”

“shhh...i’m sorry sweetheart, i am, i really am...i’m sorry i’m such a bonehead…”

Your fist beat weakly against his chest as you attempted to convince your tired body to move away. Your hand hurt from hitting him earlier.

One skeletal hand wrapped around your wrist, gently stopping the pounding. The bruises on your palms stopped to hurt as the tingling of healing magic relieved the pain.

“please don’t hurtcha’self.” He muttered against your hair.

You let him hold you like that as the sobs faded and acceptance set in. Rage burned in your heart, eclipsed by deep depression and the sick realization that you weren’t going to leave him.

“I must be the stupidest fucking person in the world.” You muttered into his chest. “Because I can’t even bring myself to really leave.”

He sighed, holding your hand to his chest as he squeezed you tighter. You sighed as a warm feeling filled your chest. “there, there...that’s better, right?”

Your eyes snapped open. Did he think you wouldn’t notice?! You shoved him off with newfound strength.

“Are you really fucking with my emotions right now?! Are you serious?” You blocked his hand as he tried to reach for you again. “You can’t magic this away, Sans, don’t fucking touch m--hey! Let me go!”

He had gripped you, pulling him back to him with a growl. You struggled against his hands, but his grip was absolute, so you gave a frustrated sigh and gave up.

“either you let me make you feel better this way…” You felt the tingle of the emotional manipulation bringing warmth to your chest. “...or this way.”

His kiss was forceful, and hot breath took yours away as he pried your lips apart to let his tongue in. You tried your best to stay stoic, but he knew you too well and you couldn’t help a small moan.  He pulled back, a look of triumph in his eyesockets. He was about to lean in again, but you hissed, recoiling. He grimaced at you.

“stop it.”

“So how was it?” He looked surprised at the question.

“eh, pardon?”

“How. Was. She?” You repeated slowly. “You sounded like you enjoyed it from the other side of the door.”

You reveled in the panic on his face as he tried to find an answer.

“she was awful. obviously.”

“Ah, so it wasn’t even worth it.”

“hey, now th--”

“Why her? Was it her streaky bleach job? Her fake tits? Did you pick her for a reason?” You pressed into him, making him sweat.

“sweetheart, please.”

“Just answer the fucking questions.”

“...no, i didn’t pick her for a reason, not in particular.”

“Oh, great, so you’ll cheat on me with anyone?”

“that’s not what i said.” His voice dropped an octave. He was getting angry.

“Are you angry? Good, get angry.” You huffed, rolling over away from him. “Now you see how I feel right now. I hope you got your rocks off with her because you’re not fucking touching me tonight.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then suddenly he was on top of you, sharp teeth bared. “that kinda sounded like a challenge, sweetheart.”

“It wasn’t.” You glared up at him, and his grin faltered for a split second, doubt clouding his mind momentarily at the look in your eyes. But he must’ve seen something he liked because his grin came back with a vengeance.

“y’know, doll, anger looks good on ya. i won’t be bangin’ other chicks or nothin’ anymore, but maybe i should make you mad more often.” He traced a finger down your jaw, gripping your chin and forcing you to keep your eyes on his. “that look could kill.”

You spit on him.

He growled and slammed you back into the pillows, bringing his other hand up to wipe your spit off his face. You couldn’t help the manic giggle that escaped you at the anger on his face.

“oh, you think that’s funny?”

“I think it’s hilarious.” You said defiantly. Something in you wanted to make him mad, make him so mad he couldn’t stand it, so he would just rip into you, showing you how much he wanted you and only you.

“listen, you fuckin’ bitch, i’m tryin’ to make nice with you here. don’t make me mad...” His fingers released your chin and reached to grab your hair, pulling your hair back and exposing your neck. He leaned down and nipped at your neck. “...cause i bite, baby.”

He was feeding right into it, getting angry and possessive. Well, two can play that game.

“You bite like a pussy. Your brother bites harder.”

The snarl that escaped him was like a caged animal as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, yanking your hair hard to keep you pinned.

You shrieked in pain, but also with pleasure. He chuckled against your neck as he licked the fresh wound, sending a shudder down your spine.

“oh, you like that, pet? you want me to mark you like property?” He growled, grin stretching wide across his face. “you want me to show you that you’re mine, and only mine?”

“No, I want you to show me that  _ you  _ are  _ mine _ .” You said, training your eyes on him unblinkingly. He’d better get ready for some serious groveling when this is all over, but right now...right now he just needs to be yours.

“heh. s’at all? you’re pretty easy to please.”

“I think you’ll find that to be far from the truth.”

“so what, i just gotta do everything you say?” He released your hair, sitting up. “lay it on me, sweetheart, i’m your faithful servant.”

“That’s a pretty poor choice of words, asshole.”

“what can i say, i like dark humor.”

His grin was giddy with anticipation as you rose, and he followed you as you moved off the bed.

“First, no touching me.”

His grin turned into a grimace. Suddenly he didn’t like this game anymore.

“Sit.”

He obediently sat on the edge of the bed. You ran your hands down your torso, tugging your overshirt gently over your head. The tank top came next, then the bra, the pants...until you stood before him in only your black, lacy panties. His favorite pair, incidentally.

“oohhhh you naughty thing.” he said under his breath.

“No talking!” You snapped, and he shut his jaw. “I’m gonna ask yes or no questions, and you’re gonna shake your head or nod. Nothing else. Understand?”

Vigorous nodding.

“Good.” You touched the new bite mark on your shoulder tenderly, and dragged that finger lightly down your collarbone, brushing over your breasts. “Do you like what you see?”

He nodded, tongue running over his teeth lightly as he surveyed you. He reached out, but you slapped his hand.

“No touching!” He opened his mouth to argue. “And no talking!”

He folded his hands in his lap, red flush forming on his cheekbones.

“Good boy. Did you enjoy your little escapade with that slut?”

He shook his head, teeth sealed tight.

“Did you enjoy making me feel that way? Making me suffer?”

He hesitated.

“Tell the truth, Sans.”

He nodded, slowly.

You sighed, running your fingertips over your breasts and ribs, brushing down to hook your thumbs in the elastic of your underwear. His eyes followed your movement, and he leaned forward, a barely audible whine escaping him.

“Do you want me?”

He nodded quickly, his hands shaking as he tried to keep from reaching out.

You held out your hand. “Give it here.”

He looked at you, and it dawned on him what you wanted. Without a word, his hands came to his chest and a beautiful red heart appeared from underneath them. He held it out to you, and you took his soul in your hands gently.

“It’s so warm for such a cold-hearted _cheater_.” He flinched at your words, hand clutching at his chest where his soul had come from. You gently ran a finger down its middle, and a violent shudder passed down his body, and he groaned.

“You may speak.” You said, pressing your thumb into the middle and rubbing small circles.

“ah...augh...hnnn…” Was all he could manage, hands twisting in the fabric of his shorts as he doubled over, red-faced and moaning. “s...sweetheart...m...more…”

You pushed him over easily with one hand and climbed on top of him, parking your ass on his hip bones. You could feel the heat from his magic pooling underneath his shorts.

His hands tried to grab at you, but you slapped them away. “No! No touching!”

“but…”

“ **No.** ”

He dropped his arms to his side, gripping the sheets with a dejected whine. You ignored him, turning your attention back to the little heart in your hands. His eyes watched, filled with anticipation, as you brought the soul to your mouth, kissing it gently. A long moan grumbled below you. You kissed it again, swirling your tongue over a scar in the middle. He gasped, throwing his hands up to grab you, but stopped himself inches from your waist, and laid his trembling hands back down.

“What a good boy. Hmmm…” You tapped the soul rhythmically, eliciting spasms of pleasure from the skeleton beneath you. “Who do you love?”

“y...you...y/n…” He moaned your name erotically, and a smile worked it’s way onto your lips. His magic took form beneath you, and you could feel his member through his shorts. He was being a good boy, though, and even though you knew he wanted to he wasn’t rocking it against you. Instead he was trembling underneath your thighs, hands entangled in the sheets. The pink across his cheekbones betrayed his feelings.

You brought the soul back to your mouth again, moaning softly as you licked it slowly, slowly all over. His breathing was labored as he moaned and whimpered, calling your name meekly. Twice he brought his hands up, clenched his fists, and put them back down.

Lick. Sigh. Nuzzle. Moan. Kiss. Whimper.

When he was sufficiently undone beneath you, looking desperate and trembling all over, you decided to throw the good dog a bone.

“One hand.”

His hand shot up, grasping your ass and pulling you closer, then up your back and over your shoulder, your collarbone, your breasts.

“What do you want?”

“y...you…”

“But do you  _ need _ me?”

His eyes looked as if half-lidded, and he was panting, touching you softly, as if it took all his strength not to throw you down and fuck you. “yes, stars yes…i need ya, babe. i need ya so fuckin’ bad.”

You gently bit the little heart, and he convulsed, throwing his head back as waves of pleasure rocked his body. His hips bucked and you allowed the movement. When you settled back down, the lump in his shorts was in front of you, pressing against you through the fabric. You hummed, feeling the warmth of his magic. The hand he was allowed was pulling against your hips, trying to surreptitiously guide you closer.

You looked down at his flushed face.

“Who’s a sorry monster?” You cooed, drawing a finger along his mandible.

“m...me, i am.” He looked so desperate for relief, to be touched. Just your finger on his jaw was making it grow right in front of your eyes. “i’m sorry, i’m real sorry babydoll...i’ll...i’ll beg, i’ll grovel, i’ll do anything…”

“And what are we _not_ going to do?”

“fuck anyone else?”

“Ever?”

“ever.”

You drew your hands back to the soul and returned it to him, watching it melt into his chest. You bent forward, pressing the bulge in his shorts against you. He groaned, his hand tightening on your hip.

“You may touch, but not pull.”

His other hand flew up, grasping your other hip. You watched the agony in his eyes knowing he couldn’t pull you against him. You rocked against him gently, slowly, and he moaned, fingertips digging into the soft flesh above your pelvis.

“please...please, princess…”

You felt the wetness soaking your underwear, how much you wanted him...but you weren’t done.

“And what are we going to do if we see that little bitch again?”

His eyes widened in confusion, not sure of the answer. “t...tell her to fuck off?”

You rocked fast and hard, then stopped abruptly as he shuddered.

“No.” You leaned over him, so your faces were inches apart. “You’re going to apologize to her. You’re going to tell her that you’re sorry, and that for the rest of her life, she’s a wanted woman. If she so much as looks at you, ever again, I’m going to beat the ever-loving shit out of her until the blood from her nose and mouth stain her bleached hair back to it’s natural fucking color. Now take off your fucking clothes, asshole.”

The grin on his face was wider than you’d ever seen. He was naked and on top of you in seconds, practically purring in your ear.

“i love it when you talk dirty like that, sweetheart…”

“Shut up and fuck me, bonehead.”


	2. Cheater: Alternate Papyrus ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus does not approve of his brother's actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been on my mind since I wrote the other one.

Papyrus may have had a little too much to drink tonight. He could have sworn he bumped into a half-naked blonde girl running out of his house, with a very familiar handprint on her face. But the only person home was Sans, and Sans was in a serious relationship with you, the human he’d met two years ago, so she couldn’t have been…

His train of thought stalled at the station as he zeroed in on screaming from his brother’s room.

At first he almost groaned, but it didn’t sound like the usual screaming. It sounded...pained, crazed. He could hear some unsavory words that he didn’t like…

Cheater.

His eyes flared with magic. Cheater?! Sans?!

He was ashamed to admit he hesitated. His fists clenched as he listened to your cries from downstairs. It was a shock, though he’d often questioned (sometimes out loud) why you were with him anyway. His brother was...an insufferable idiot, sure, but he’d never expected this from him. Sans’ love for you was so obvious it was unbearable, talking about you constantly, making him skip practice to hang out, making him ignore anything Papyrus said. And yours for him, as well, batting those long eyelashes at Sans, the late night scream sessions Papyrus had to endure...and on the rare occasion, join in on.

In the few times he had been a part of your lovemaking sessions, you and Sans had allowed him freedom of your body, short of marking you or bonding of course. And in those moments, a sick desire had cultivated in his bones...the desire to have you for himself.

And hearing your voice now, your strangled cries, his half-hearted attempt at apologizing...it made his bones chatter with rage. How dare he? How dare he do this to such a perfect setup...he would have been happy with you there his entire life, and now his brother had fucked everything up! He had driven you away! He had...he had...he had hurt your  _ feelings _ !

Finally, after those short moments of hesitation, Papyrus flew up the stairs.

* * *

“You fucking asshole! How fucking  _ dare you _ !” You screamed, beating his chest in anger. “Honesty? Loyalty? Passion? Do those mean  _ nothing _ to you?”

“i...i…” He backed up a step, but you followed, hands still beating at his chest. It hurt as you struck his bone, but you ignored it, rage spilling over. He had done this  _ specifically _ to hurt you. To get back at you for something you didn’t do. 

“You didn’t even talk to me! You didn’t even ask! You just went out and fucked some bitch like it was  _ nothing _ !”

“sweetheart, please stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself…”

“Don’t fucking call me that! I am not your sweetheart anymore!” You shoved him back, making a beeline for the dresser again. You shoved some clothes in your bag and zipped it. You’d come back for the rest later.

“babydoll, please stop, let me talk to y--”

“Too fucking late!” You picked the bag up by the handle, but suddenly it was gone. You whirled to face him, your cheeks red from screaming. “Give it back.”

Sans didn’t budge, and the suitcase floating above his head disappeared. “oops. now ya can’t go.”

“Ugh! You are an insufferable brat!” You shrieked, kicking a discarded dress across the floor. You turned to leave without your bag, but his hand closed around your wrist. Before anything else could happen, the door slammed open, the hall light illuminating the shadowy figure of a very angry skeleton.

Sans froze, hand holding your wrist in a vice grip. You weren’t sure if Papyrus’ presence was a blessing or a curse, so you actually shrunk back into Sans a little bit out of habit. But the second his face focused in, you knew he was on your side.

“P...Papyruuss--!” Suddenly the tears came, flowing from your eyes as you broke from Sans’ grip, throwing yourself into the taller skeleton’s arms as he stared directly at his brother, death in his eyes. His arms folded around you as you shook from the sobs. Behind you, Sans stood rigidly.

“oh...uh...hey, boss...sorry to disturb ya. we’re...having a bit of a disagreement.”

Sans watched his brother’s eyes flit around the room to the clothes thrown about, to you trembling in his arms, to the lipstick stains on his shirt.

“SANS...WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” His voice was eerily calm, like a snake poised for the attack. Sans was pretty sure this is what it felt like to have his life flash before his eyes. But he could feel it as he watched Papyrus pick you up effortlessly, he could feel the nervous twitching that told him he shouldn’t be worried about himself.

“now, hey, don’t worry, we’ll work it out, just...put her down.”

“I MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO HARASS HER ANY LONGER, YOU BLUBBERING FOOL!” He roared, clutching you closer to him as you buried your face in his scarf. “I DON’T KNOW THE PARTICULARS BUT I DO KNOW THAT BRINGING BLONDE BIMBOS INTO YOUR BED WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM YOUR DATE-MATE IS CALLED CHEATING!”

“but i--”

“HAVE BEEN DISHONEST?”

“well, i made--”

“A CONSCIOUS CHOICE TO NO LONGER BE WORTHY OF HER AFFECTIONS?”

“look, boss, she’s  _ my  _ girl, so  _ i’ll  _ take care of it, alright?”

“SHE...SHE IS NOT YOURS ANYMORE, SANS.”

And with that, Papyrus turned on his heel and marched out the door, slamming it behind him with his boot.

You were still trembling when he laid you on his bed, but your crying had stopped and you wore a despondent stare. He was...terrible with things like this. Even so, he wanted to help.

“SHE WAS UGLY, TOO.” he said with a sniff, trying to get a smile. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. “POSITIVELY WRETCHED, REALLY. HER HAIR WAS SO DAMAGED IT WAS TRYING TO IMITATE PAULY SHORE’S CAREER.”

You buried your face in a pillow, and he thought maybe he had made it worse, until he heard muffled giggles. He smirked.

“AND THAT DRESS! DOES SHE SHOP IN THE DARK? I DON’T THINK EVEN LESSER DOG WOULD HAVE ALLOWED HER TO PET HIM.”

The giggles came again, and you tried to hide your face further. He was no comedian, that was definitely Sans’ territory, but he could certainly make fun of a person’s appearance.

“It’s not really her fault, though. We shouldn’t make fun of her,” you said, muffled by the pillow. He considered this. It really wasn’t that girl’s fault, despite the fact that Sans had probably mentioned his girlfriend to her. No, the blame was on Sans, 100%.

“I’VE GOT LOTS TO SAY ABOUT THAT IMBECILE. BUT...I WILL REFRAIN.” He knew you probably didn’t want to hear it. The relieved sigh he heard from you was proof. However, the sigh must have come with the realization that you still cared for him, because your sobs started all over again, and you curled into yourself. 

Papyrus sighed inwardly, unsure of his next move. He wanted so desperately to just throw you down and fuck you until you forgot about his stupid brother, but...well, you were in no mood for that, and he  _ did _ love his brother to some extent. Besides, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that would solve anything. No, he needed to comfort you some other way.

He reached out hesitantly, and brushed his fingers against your shoulder. “There, There, Human, It Will Be Alright…”

You turned to look at him, shocked. You’d never heard his “indoor voice” before.

“I Don’t Yell  _ All _ The Time.” He shook his head as if rolling his eyes.

You surprised him by throwing your arms around him, effectively climbing into his lap. “Oh...Papyrus...I...I thought he loved me…”

“It’s Okay, Pet, He Does Love You.” He muttered, awkwardly patting your back. He wasn’t sure why he was defending his bonehead brother. “But Sans Is An Idiot.”

“Why, though? Why didn’t he just ask me?” You said, burying your face in his scarf. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other around your shoulders. He bit back a sigh. Holding you close...he’d never done this outside of his brother’s cuckolding adventures. 

He never admitted it to himself until just now, but he loved you. He loved you so much. From the way you sang as you cooked dinner, swinging your hips around to the music in your head...to the way you emerged from his brother’s room in the morning in one of his t-shirts, sleepy smile and messy hair...to the way you smiled at him when he was trying to look fierce and stoic...you drove him absolutely wild. He lived for those nights in your bed, even though he knew he was only pretending you were his. He held back those times, wanting to practically maul you, challenge his brother’s mark by making his own, or make you feel so good you’d never look back.

But now...here you were, in his lap, in his room, in his bed. You were turning to him for comfort after his brother had royally wrecked whatever you all had once had. Inviting him to touch you. Begging him to hold you. He slowly moved his hands across your back, dipping gently under your shirt, hoping you wouldn’t notice as he touched your skin lightly.

“I just can’t believe how stupid I am. I can’t even bring myself to leave.”

His hands stopped. He couldn’t tell if that was…

He pulled away, looking you in the eyes. “Human...Do You Still Love Him?”

The tears sparkled in your eyes as you nodded. He felt like somebody had stabbed him directly in the soul. But...at least if you worked things out with Sans then he could continue to join you in your bed sometimes, continue to watch you cook, hear you sing, see you smile.

“Then...Do You...Maybe, Do You Want To Stay?”

“Of course I want to stay but…” You bit your lip and looked off to the side. “...but I don’t know if I can forgive him. But what do I have to stay for if not to forgive him?”

His eyes widened. If not for Sans, then...that is, if you wanted to stay, but you didn’t think it was for him…

“STAY FOR ME!”

You looked startled at his outburst, and so was he. He’d just...kind of...blurted it out.

“...Papyrus?” Your fingers were at his cheekbones, gently guiding him to look up at you. He felt his face flushing bright orange. That’s it, he’d really ruined everything this time. Well, might as well go down swinging.

“Yes, For Me.” He said quietly, his hands finding the belt loops of your pants and pulling you closer. “If Not For Sans, Then Stay For Me. So I Can Hear You Singing In The Kitchen, And See You Flinch At Horror Movies…”

“Papyrus…”

“And See You In...In  _ My _ Bed, In  _ My _ Shirts, Screaming  _ My _ Name In The Middle Of The Night When You Can’t Sleep Because The Nightmares Keep You Up...Stay With _Me_.”

You sat back on his thighs while you processed his words, and he was surprised you didn’t just run. You seemed like you might, but you stayed in his lap, bringing a hand to your face. Was that a...blush? You were blushing! That meant you liked the idea, right?

“Human?” He asked gently, hoping to spur you into an answer. He had never been so honest with anyone in his life, and he had also never been so scared of an answer.

Suddenly you pushed forward, pressing your lips against his teeth. He yelped in surprise, but once he regained himself, you were flat on your back with his tongue in your mouth. His mind was racing. Was this a yes? Did you want him? Did you want to stay with him? Were you done with Sans, or was this a one-time weakness? Would...would you really stay?

You moaned against his mouth, and he purred in return. Your kiss was different than before. Before you were doing it for Sans, for his enjoyment as he watched, but this...this kiss was for you, and for him. There was no Sans, not even a video camera. Nobody was watching to make sure he didn’t go too far, nobody was monitoring the feelings in his bones.

“Please...Papyrus…” You moaned against his mouth. “Please tell me what you need to say…”

“I’m In Love With You, Human...Y/N…”

He pulled back to look at you, sprawled over his sheets, hair on his pillows. Your face was flushed a pleasant pink, and you were smiling through the tears that still clung to your eyelashes. The tears...he suddenly remembered how he got here.

“Tell Me, Sweet Human...Do You Really Still Love My Brother?”

You sighed. “That’s not going to go away. Yes, I do.”

“...And...And Me?”

“Well, that’s not going away either. I do, Papyrus. I love you.”

The words sounded so strange when strung together with his name, like a melody played in a different key than normal. He ran a finger down your cheek, trying to think of what he should do next. You loved them both, huh?

“I Suppose I Can Work With That.” He said.

There was a pounding on the door, and you both jumped.

“hey! you can’t just run off with my girlfriend like that! get the fuck back out here before i kick this door down!”

Papyrus smirked at you, and slid off the bed to open the door. Sans fell through the doorway with an unceremonious shriek. When he saw you on the bed, he started to move towards you, only to be caught by the back of his shirt.

“GOOD NEWS, BROTHER! THE LADY HAS DECIDED TO STAY!” He said, a pleased tone lacing his words. Sans looked up at his brother, then back at you.

“r-really? you mean it?” You nodded, and he stopped resisting his brother’s grip, slumping his shoulders. “aw, gee, princess. don’t scare me like that. now let’s go talk about it, eh?”

“I THINK YOU’VE MISUNDERSTOOD. THE LADY HAS DECIDED TO STAY...WITH ME.”

Sans looked up at his brother, confused, and Papyrus reveled in the look on his face. Serves him right. He dropped the smaller skeleton with a clunk, and sauntered over to the bed, where he placed a sweet and sour skelekiss on your temple, running your hair through his fingers. He sat behind you, pulling you in by your hips. He brushed his teeth across the back of your neck and shoulder, and then bit down--hard.

Sans eyes grew dark as you shrieked, an orange teardrop showing on your clavicle as Papyrus’ mark appeared, perfectly mirroring his brother’s on the other side. The challenge had been set forth, and Sans began to shake with rage.

“WHAT’S WRONG, SANS?” Papyrus’ voice was sweet in your ear, dripping with venom. “I THOUGHT YOU LIKED WATCHING?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn't clear, they are going to fight for her, sort of.  
> Right now they've both marked her, which means she's accepted both of them as lovers.  
> This could either be a really good setup where everyone ends up happy, or a really bad one where everyone dies lol.


	3. Thought You Were Straight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a worker at Grillby's, and duh, you know Sans. And yes, he's certainly your type. Problem is, you're certain he's straight, and well, you're a dude.  
> UF!Sans x Male Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request on Tumblr I did, it ended up pretty short but I still like it (:

You’d only been working at Grillby’s for a few months by now, and seeing as he was distracted by his daughter’s college search you had pretty much taken over. It was a bit daunting at first, but you realized quickly that the job wasn’t that demanding. A few regulars, but most monsters had scattered after the Ascension so the place was usually pretty empty.

Sans was there every night, though, and always with some new bunny on his arm. You had grown used to him, liked him even, and constantly pushed down the thought that it was a pity he was straight, because he was certainly  _ your _ type. Sometimes his lady friends were human, sometimes a monster, but you had never seen him alone before tonight. 

Tonight he downed multiple mustards before he so much as said a word to you, visible bags under his sockets (how?) and a melancholy scowl affixed to his skull. His gold tooth glinted in the low light of the bar, claw-like phalanges tapping nervously on the counter.

“do you think i’m a good guy?” He asked, and for a moment you weren’t sure he was actually speaking to you, his gruff voice so low you could barely hear it. After glancing around to see there was no one else, you had to ask.

“Sorry, Sans, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“i said, you think i’m a good guy? you think i’d be a reliable friend in the long run?” He asked again, gratefully accepting the new mustard you slid toward him. “thanks, man.”

“No problem. And yeah, I think you’re pretty swell, Sans. Why do you ask?” You didn’t have anything left to wipe down or restock, so you leaned against the counter to settle into the conversation. He avoided your gaze, but that wasn’t the strange thing about the look on his face.

“hey, you like dudes, right?” He asked suddenly. You blinked, taken aback slightly.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah?” It came out kinda like a question.

“cause, like, i know women. you know? i know how to do that. a little music, a little bedroom eyes, bam! putty.” He rubbed his sockets with both hands for a moment. “but, i don’t get guys. i know what i like, obviously, but that doesn’t really help at all because i’m at twisted freak. how do you tell a dude you wanna...you know? like, if someone asked me how to confess to a guy, what should I say?”

You looked at him quizzically. How many had he had? He was talking crazy, and you could barely understand and follow. “Confess to a guy? Well, I think it’d probably be better to keep it honest and concise. Guys aren’t really much for all the extra shit until later, you know? So just, tell them to go for it?”

“to go for it.” He didn’t ask, just repeated. His phalanges tapped out a beat on the table as he stared intently at his mustard bottle.

“I mean, I can talk to this mystery--”

You were cut off as he grabbed the front of your apron, pulling you down over the bar as he rose quickly from his own seat to meet you. He was...he was kissing you?! His teeth pressed against your mouth, and the sensation of lips against yours was mind boggling.

You let out a muffled yelp of surprise, and then it was over almost as quickly as it began. He didn’t release you, so you both just stared at each other,  faces inches apart, and suddenly you understood the look on his face. You felt yourself blushing profusely, something that rarely happened to you, and his own face was flushed with red as well. You’d seen him blush a little at the girls he brings by, so it wasn't a surprise, except for maybe the fact that it was now pointed expressly at you.

“was...was that concise enough?” He asked, chuckling weakly. You stared at him, dumbfounded, watching his eyelights glance away and all round as he loosened his grip on your apron.

“Oh. Uh. I thought you were...like, straight?” You stumbled over your words, kicking yourself for caring about stupid details right now.

“to, uh, to be honest? never really cared about what’s inside the pants. and, uh...you. you’re pretty...swell.”

Swell, huh? You reached up to untangle his fingers from your apron, using his hands to pull him closer again and meet him once again over the bar. Seems this was the only invitation he needed, because before you knew it, you were laying flat-backed on the bar counter and he was climbing over you, and you were astonished by the magical tongue that was now dancing inside your mouth. You couldn’t help but grip him closer, a dominant moan escaping you as you kissed him. He squeaked as you effortlessly picked him up, flipping around so that  _ you _ were pinning  _ him _ down now. He knocked the mustard over as he went down, splashing some on his face as he stared up at you, excited and wide-socketed.

“Too concise. I’m pretty dense, I might need a little more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests on my Tumblr!


	4. Closer*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT at the end.  
> Papyrus spies an old flame from across the bar--you!  
> UF!Paps x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the song Closer by The Chainsmokers

Papyrus knocked back another drink, slamming the glass down on the counter and impatiently gesturing for the bartender to fill it again.

He hated coming with Sans on his stupid business trips. The hotels were always lackluster, and the only part he enjoyed was getting shit faced in the hotel bar and taking pleasure in some poor human victim...er, partner.

Normally he wasn’t a one-night stand kind of guy (that was more Sans’ territory) but something about being in a strange city where he didn’t know anyone…

He began to scan the bar as the bartender filled his glass with another whiskey. There wasn’t much to see, save for a gaggle of human women in the corner booth that he assumed must be celebrating something. They were loud and annoying, and the drunkest one was wearing a small white veil and a sash. A Bachelorette party! Heh, easy pick...ings…

His mind shut off when he spotted somebody he actually recognized. If he had a heart it might stop--you were laughing at something one of the girls said, completely oblivious to his presence, sporting a tight black dress and ruby red lipstick.

It took him a second to confirm with himself that it  _ was _ you. It was  _ you _ !

5 years ago he had met you in a park, where you had encountered him shaking down a thug to pay up or scram. You’d stopped dead in your tracks, wide-eyed…

 

_ “CAN I HELP YOU?” He snapped, releasing the man, who screamed as he hit the ground unceremoniously. The man took off immediately. Shame, he could’ve weaseled more information from him. You started at the sound of his voice. Heh. Your fear was hilarious. _

_ “Y/N! Where are you!”  _

_ You surprised him by running to his side, hiding behind him as best as you could, casting nervous glances at the trailhead you’d just emerged from. He could hear the angry male voice calling again, getting closer. _

_ “y/n, you little piece of shit. This is the thanks I get for taking such good care of you? You can’t leave me! You could never find anyone like me!” _

_ You shrunk into his side, and he marvelled at the idea that this other human was so bad that you would willingly cuddle up to a fearsome monster that you’d just seen beat somebody up. _

_ A man burst into the clearing, and Papyrus was immediately defensive due to the anger rolling off his body in waves. He cast an arm out protectively, unwilling to be accused of being unable to protect even one stupid human. The man’s eyes were wild, and he barely registered the presence of the fearsome skeleton monster as he zeroed in on you. _

_ “ _ **_You_ ** _. There you are.” He jabbed a finger in your direction and your grip on Papyrus’ shirt tightetened. He glanced down at you, and he could make out the outlines of bruises hidden by makeup on your face and neck. “Come on, we’re going home.” _

_ “I...I’m not going anywhere with you!” You whimpered. Things clicked, and Papyrus realized...this man had been beating you. _

_ “You fucking bitch, I’ve done nothing but provide for your leech ass since we’ve been together! If you leave me, you won’t have anything! No home, no clothes, no car,  _ **_nothing!_ ** _ ” _

_ “YOU ARE VERY WRONG, INSOLENT HUMAN!” Papyrus hissed, tucking you safely behind him. The man finally seemed to register his presence, and glared up at him with a disgusted look. “SHE HAS ME. AND IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE THIS MOMENT, YOU WILL ALSO HAVE PART OF ME... _ **_UP YOUR ASS._ ** _ ” _

_ To prove his point, the skeleton summoned several sharp bones around him, pointing sharp ends at his soft flesh. The man jumped and shrieked, causing you to giggle into Papyrus’ shirt. He smirked, pleased with himself. _

_ “Wh-whatever! Keep the whore, then! Hope you like being fucked by a nasty skeleton, bitch!” He turned and stalked back down the trail he came from, muttering about “dirty monster fuckers”. _

 

You hadn’t let him leave without you. You followed him out of the park, asking questions and giving him compliments...he’d had no choice but to let you stay with them temporarily. But...the temporary housing situation had turned permanent when he’d kissed you in the kitchen late one night, and your passion for each other bloomed into a breathtaking and intimate relationship.

He had loved you so much, and you him...it was a blissful year together until…

 

_ “COLLEGE? WHAT DO YOU NEED THAT FOR?” Papyrus scoffed, pushing your laptop screen back so he could examine the website. _

_ “I wanted to be a teacher before...before I met Aaron. He told me I was too stupid for college and to just give up.” He hummed thoughtfully, pulling you up into his lap from your side of the couch. _

_ “You’re plenty smart already, my sweet.” He said quietly, nuzzling your neck. “But if you need college, then I understand.” _

 

But he hadn’t realized you’d be going so  _ far away _ . When he realized you’d be a state away, he suddenly wasn’t for it anymore. You’d be over six hours away from him, and he was rooted in Ebbott, with the Royal Family. He couldn’t go with you. You didn’t seem nearly as bothered by that as he was.

You fought. He fought. For days the two of you argued about you leaving, until finally you packed the car and took off without a word, only a note.

 

_ (P.S. I still love you) _

 

That note haunted him for the next 4 years. He changed his number out of petty anger, and immediately regretted it when he realized he didn’t have your new one.

 

**_I know it breaks your heart,_ **

**_Moved to the city in a broke down car._ **

**_And 4 years no call_ **

**_Now you’re lookin’ pretty in a hotel bar_ **

 

And here you were. It was definitely you. He’d know that laugh anywhere. It was the laugh that plagued his dreams every night, the laugh that haunted his memories. He had a sizeable hole in his wall from where he’d lost it several times, hitting the wall repeatedly that he could have been so stupid.

Wait. When had he gotten up?

 

**_And I~~can’t stop!_ **

 

His legs were moving on their own, desperate to talk to you, to find out if you burned as strongly for him as he did for you still, after all this time…

 

**_And I~~can’t stop!_ **

 

He could hardly see all your friends’ terrified reactions to his presence as he grabbed your shoulder. You jumped and shrieked, spilling your drink, and then you turned a wide-eyed stare to see who had grabbed you.

Silence.

Had you forgotten him? His soul whined at the thought as your silence became uncomfortable.

Then…

“P...Papyrus?” You said quietly, almost as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Your friends started to titter behind you.

“ _ Did she say Papyrus? Like, the Great and Terrible love-of-her-life Papyrus? _ ”

“ _ You think it’s the same one? _ ”

“ _ Duh! Look at her face! _ ”

“ _ Shhh! You guys are totally, like, ruining the moment!” _

He could barely hear them over the sound of his soul reacting to yours. You were completely shell-shocked, staring up at him as if you’d seen a ghost. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you all the things he never got a chance to say... _ there’s so many fucking people here _ .

He moved his hand from your shoulder to your wrist, pulling you up from your chair and into an embrace. Where to go? His room? No, Sans was there. Home? He might not be in a right enough mind to make that trip. He didn’t teleport as often as Sans and he couldn’t risk losing you in the void.

With a soft  _ pop _ the both of you were gone, reappearing in the parking lot.

You squeaked and wobbled, clutching the front of his shirt. He caught you with two strong hands, steadying you. He wasted no time once you had your balance, pulling you back to his chest in a passionate embrace. He didn’t expect you to reciprocate, after all, he was the one who…

You hugged him back. You practically clawed at his back to get a better grip, and when he hoisted you into the air, you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, arms around his shoulders, and buried your face in his scarf.

“Y/n...Stars, I thought I’d never see you again…” He said quietly, voice muffled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. Jeez, don’t cry. The Great and Terrible Papyrus doesn’t cry!

But you were crying. He heard you sobbing into his scarf. You had missed him just as he had you.

 

**_You_ **

**_You look as good as the day I met you_ **

**_I forgot just why I left you_ **

**_I was insane_ **

 

“Papyrus, I…”

“NO! No, stop, it was me.” He cooed, working a hand into your hair. His touch felt so good, your body was practically screaming at you, telling you to kiss him.

You pulled away enough to look into his eyes. Your hands ran over his skull, his cracks, confirming he was real and here. You thought you’d never have his arms around you again, that he hated you and he’d never forgive you for what you did. You’d never regretted anything as deeply as leaving him, and you’d even tried to call and talk it out but the line was disconnected.

After that you’d cried for months, knowing you’d thrown away the truest love you’d ever know. You threw yourself into study, hoping to become a teacher and move back to Ebbott and try again. But life had other plans--friends, internships...a new boyfriend. You hadn’t exactly liked Brian, ever, but he was something. You felt an ache in your heart for so long, and Brian was willing to ease it. He bought you nice dresses and let you use his fancy cars, but you didn’t care about any of that. You let him dote upon you because you were convinced you’d never see your love again, and if you were going to miserable, then at least you wouldn’t have to be alone. You hadn’t even said yes when he asked you to marry him, you’d just allowed him to slip the engagement ring on to your finger without a word. It didn’t matter. Your life was over, anyway.

But when you’d come to Stacey’s Bachelorette party tonight, and a familiar touch hit your shoulder...you hadn’t believed your eyes as Papyrus pulled you close once again. 

Were you dreaming?

“I...t-tried to call.”

He looked guilty when you said that. “I...changed my number out of anger.” He shook his head. “IT DOES NOT MATTER! I HAVE YOU HERE, NOW...right?”

You nodded, leaning in to press a feverish kiss upon his teeth. He groaned immediately, pressing back with the familiar feeling of magic on your lips. You gasped, fully aware how wet your panties were at this tiny little kiss. You hadn’t been this turned on since...well, since you left 4 years ago.

You wish you could take him home, but Brian was there. And if he had a room here, Sans was probably there. There was just…

“Wait, we’re in the parking lot?” You gasped, pulling back.

“UH, YES?” He regarded you with confusion as you fumbled for your keys in your coat pocket. You hit the unlock button and…

_ Click-click! _

Papyrus stared at Brian’s huge black Range Rover as it unlocked. Wow, it was pretty close. Even though he had no way to know where he had landed you guys, you thanked Papyrus in your head for his impeccable landing.

 

**_So baby pull me closer_ **

**_In the backseat of your Rover_ **

**_That I know you can’t afford_ **

 

If he was suspicious about your nice car, his need to touch you overruled it, because he didn’t mention it. He shifted you effortlessly to one arm as if you were a child, making you squeal and giggled, and threw open the door to the backseat. He quickly deposited you in the seat, wasting no time in scrambling in after you as you situated yourself. As the door clicked closed, his mouth was already on yours, and you moaned as his tongue slipped between your lips, tingling against yours.

“I was a fool, Y/N. I let you get away over something as petty as distance.” He murmured against your lips. “You’re as beautiful as when I lost you, as the day I made the gravest mistake of my life and let you leave.”

“No, I shouldn’t have left,” you cooed, tugging on his scarf as his head dipped down to trail kisses down your neck. “I...aahhh...mmm...I...should have come back...I should have… _ fuck. _ ”

Fuck! It’s so hard to concentrate when he’s kissing your collarbone like that! He’s hardly listening, instead focused on pushing your jacket down your arms so he can kiss as much skin as possible.

 

**_Bite that tattoo on your shoulder_ **

 

His phalanges touched the tattoo lightly. Before it had been a simple script reading “Aaron”, the name of your useless ex-boyfriend. He had bit down on that spot many times during intimacy, as if giving that asshole the middle finger. But where there had been his name, somebody had done a masterful cover-up with red and black roses adorning the crown of and  _ Dia de Los Muertos  _ style sugar skull _. _

“For my Sugar Skull,” you said breathlessly, drawing his attention back to your face. You looked amazing, flushed face, half-lidded eyes, needy and ready. But behind the lust he could also see the love your gaze held,  _ that look in your eye _ . He lived for that look. He swooped down to kiss the new tattoo, pleased that you had chosen to keep him with you this way, and to scrub out that useless idiot for good.

You were running your hands over his skull in just the right way, just how he likes it, but…

He grabbed your hand and brought it down to inspect it.  _ Fuck _ . Just as he thought. He examines the ring and it’s huge diamond, and he can feel your stare boring into his skull. If he remembered correctly…this meant you were betrothed to marry.  _ Tsk _ . He should have known as soon as he saw the car, the expensive dress...there was no way you’d be able to afford these things on your own.

“I don’t love him.” You whispered, your voice quaking and catching him by surprise. You withdrew your hand, pulling the ring off your finger and tossing it to the floor of the vehicle. You cupped his face in your hands, eyes burning with guilt and determination. “I don’t love him. I never did. It’s always been you.”

There was a long moment of silence as he regarded your expression, looking for a lie. He didn’t find it, but it still bothered him.

“I don’t care what your feelings for him are,” he lied. “As long as you don’t stop me now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” You sighed as he crashed his mouth upon yours again. You tasted so sweet, just like he remembered. His hands dropped down to slide underneath the tight minidress you wore, sliding upwards until it was bunched up around your waist. You sighed and pressed yourself against him as he took his time, remembering the feel of your skin. 

Your hands wandered down his sternum, his ribs, and settled on his belt buckle. You had a hard time getting a good angle so he grunted in frustration, releasing the kiis to sit up as best he could, yanking the belt from its loops. Before long, your combined fumbling paid off, and you were rewarded with a sight you hadn’t seen in all too long. You sighed as you ran your hand over his dark orange magic, and he shuddered at your touch. You looked at each other in wide-eyed disbelief for a long moment. Neither of you had expected to be here, in each other’s arms, ever again.

“Tell me what you want, my human…” He said, fingers brushing the fabric of your panties. The light touch made you shiver in pleasure and need. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you, Papyrus...it’s always been you, I want you so much it’s…” You gasped as he yanked your panties aside, aligning himself with your heat, rubbing ever so gently. He stared at you, that mischievous smile on his face. He wanted more. “... _ I need you, baby. _ ”

He pressed into you slowly, a hiss of pleasure escaping from his teeth as he gripped your hips, angling you upward. You couldn’t contain the lewd moan that fell from your lips as he hilted himself inside you. He leaned down and you kissed him sweetly, both of you simply enjoying the feeling of being entangled once again. He felt  _ so good _ , better than you remember, and the fire of desire in your belly began to coil immediately as he slowly rocked against you, shuddering with each thrust and muttering your name, running his hands over your exposed skin, pulling down your dress so he could roll your breasts underneath his hands. 

He adjusted his angle, and pleasure exploded inside you, making you tense and your hands fly up to slide underneath his shirt, grabbing onto his ribs. He groaned and doubled over, his hips thrusting faster, fingertips digging into your soft hip flesh, enjoying every sensation of your body, so perfect, exactly how he remembered you, exactly how he wanted you…

Later, when he had you in a bed, he’d have to go about marking you all over again, getting rough and hot, removing that other man’s foul stench from your flesh, but for right now this is exactly what he wanted.  _ You.  _ Just you, undone underneath him, panting his name, looking at him  _ with that look in your eyes _ . He growled as you ran your nails down his spine, then hooked your hands around his iliac crests, forcing his hips closer, thrusting him deeper.

“Papyruusss,” You gasped, feeling the coil inside tightening, ready to burst. He knew exactly how close you were, because he pulled halfway out, hesitating for just a second, and then he slammed against your cervix with a grunt, and you shrieked in pleasure, allowing your orgasm to wash over you as you tensed your body, walls tightening around his cock and making him curl downward and groan pleasurably. A few more thrusts and you could feel him spill his magic into you, pumping in jerky, frantic motions.

He collapsed on top of you, holding his weight off of you with one forearm planted firmly on the windowsill as he trailed kisses down from your forehead to your lips.

“Did...Did you like that, my sweet?” He huffed, his free hand pushing the sweaty hair out of your eyes. You nodded, still struggling to catch your breath, and he hooked one arm underneath you.

With one smooth motion, you were planted in his lap, his cock still buried in your pussy to the hilt. You hummed in pleasure at the feeling of him being inside you, oblivious to the sticky magic dripping around his cock. 

“Come back?”

Your head snapped to attention, looking into his pleading gaze as his hands ran over your soft flesh. “I...I still have two semesters before graduation…” You saw his face fall, but before he could retort, you pressed a finger to his teeth.

“But...But I could forget about those if I did student teaching and…” You leaned in, pressing your body flush to his, his strong arms hooking around you easily. “...there’s a program for that in Ebbott. But I...I’d need a place to stay.”

He chuckled at your faux-distress. “Then you’ll come home with me?” You nodded eagerly, meeting him for another passionate kiss. He pulled away just long enough to ask: “What’s his name? The fiance?”

“...Brian.” You said with a pout. You didn’t want to talk about him!

“And this is his car?” Papyrus asked, gesturing to the Rover. You nodded.

“Yeah, one of them.” He chuckled, and you cocked your head curiously.

His hands planted themselves firmly on your ass, and you gasped as you felt him grow even harder inside of you, stretching you wide.

“ _**LET’S WRECK THE UPHOLSTERY BEFORE WE GIVE IT BACK, HMMM?** ” _


	5. Corrupting the Cinnabunny and How it Got You Here*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're dating six skeletons. Yeah, that's a thing.  
> The guys all want you, but they also don't want to step on any toes. So when you have a less than innocent night (with Papyrus, of all people!) The gloves have to CUM off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edge and Red are involved, so I'll post this here. This was a reward for someone who guessed a plot point to SSIYC correctly (:

You’d made some pretty questionable choices throughout your life, but this wasn’t one of them. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were when you accepted your friends’ proposal to date all six of them.

To be fair, date seemed a strong word. What you were really doing was getting cornered at every turn, and fooling around because  _ fuck it was too good to say no _ . 

When you’d met Sans at the library with his cousins squabbling over which story is the best for bedtime, you hadn’t imagined that this would be the end result, but after months of tension and confusion over the various motivations of even more various skeletons, they’d finally relented that they all wanted you...if that was okay.

And, well...hey, why not? Not like you could have ever picked just one, in fact it had solved your conflict entirely and you couldn’t even lie and say you hadn’t thought about it. So you’d agreed, and things started out slow and pleasant.

Papyrus often took you on dates, as well as Blue, but the others seemed interested in staying home...if you catch the drift? Despite the obvious tension in the house, it seemed they were all waiting to decide who gets to sleep with you first (alright, admittedly you were the one who overheard that exact argument while making lunch). They seemed to agree that it was pushing it, at least until you’d fooled around with everyone. Which you had...mostly. 

All but Papyrus, that sweet cinnamon roll. Even Blue had pulled you into his room for a smooch fest after your latest date (a trip to the local carnival. Very fun, lots of sugar, he was ready to go for sure). A very hot and surprisingly dominant smooch fest.

Papyrus’ general idea of a date was usually dinner at home, and then you would read him to sleep. Just like you were doing tonight.

“Something wrong, Cinnabunny?” You asked, marking the page and closing the book gently. Normally he was asleep by now, but tonight he was very awake, and distracted. He flushed an adorable orange before stammering an excuse.

“N-no, I very much enjoy this,” he said quietly, clutching his blankets. “It’s...well, it’s just that I...I had heard my brother and my cousins talking about you, and I…”

He paused, and then pulled back the covers, scooting over so you could join him. This wasn’t exactly new, you’d cuddled in bed, even spent the night, before. But his nervousness was unusual. You wondered, as you snuggled into his side, if he was worried about something else.

“And?” You prodded gently, tucking your head against his collarbone. His t-shirt was soft, very soft. Did he plan these cuddles? Sneaky skelly.

“And I...well, they were...hmm.” He seemed to be at a loss for a polite word. “Frustrated? Upset? Not mad, just…”

“Frustrated is good.”

“Oh, okay. Yes. Frustrated. Little human, how long have we been dating?”

“Hmmm...three months? But I’ve known you all for almost a year.” You knew what he was getting at, but it was cute to see him flustered.

“And, well...you know me. You know I generally don’t, uh...I don’t usually feel the need to express my affections...intimately?”

Oh, geez. He’s sweating, poor thing. “Yeah, you like spaghetti and cuddles and things like that.”

“Well, they were speaking VERY RUDELY ABOUT YOUR--Oh, oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.”

You had pulled away from him, wincing. You knew his default setting was 11/10 on volume, so you didn’t really blame him. You settled back down and waved him on, smiling.

“A-anyway...they talked about...fooling around with you. A-and at first, I didn’t know what they meant, because generally ‘fooling around’ means playing...right?”

“Yup.”

“But they...talked about kissing you. About touching you, eh...inappropriately.”

“It’s not really considered inappropriate if you’re in a relationship, and in private, and there’s consent.” You pointed out gently. He seemed to perk up at this information...poor baby, did he really not know?

“Oh! So I did not need to be feeling angry?”

“Depends on why you felt angry. Why did you feel that way?” You brought your hand to draw small circles on his clavicle, and his blush brightened. He seemed even more nervous, and his stammer got worse.

“I was angry b-because...because I...I w-wanted to...ehm...I wanted to t-touch you...that way...as well…”

“So...you were jealous?” You teased. His hands flew to his face, obscuring the adorable orange blush and his shameful frown.

“YES! Yes, I was jealous, I’m a pervert, I’m so very sorry! I have deceived you with my kind cuddles and delicious spaghetti! Nyoo-hoo-hooo…”

“Awww, don’t cry, Paps! It normal to want to touch your datemate that way…” You said, pulling his hands away from his face and wiping at the huge orange tears. “...I mean, I want to touch  _ you _ that way, after all.”

He stops sobbing immediately, looking at you with awe. “R-really? You’re not just s-saying that?”

You shake your head. “Nope. You’re my cinnamon bunny, my vertibae. I’d be  _ very _ happy to be intimate with you...emphasis on  _ very _ .”

You moved your hand from his clavicle to his sternum, where you could see his soul glowing faintly through his tshirt. That adorable blush was almost too much, and he gasped at the scandalous way your hand dipped below his collar.

“S-so…” He stammered, covering your hand with his, trapping it against his sternum. “Do you...want to…?”

“Fool around?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow and smirking knowingly. He nodded gently, hesitantly. You giggled, pulling him closer. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You’d kissed him before, but those were sweet, chaste kisses, and while he was a bit clumsy and inexperienced, you could feel the difference between those kisses and this one. The amount of passion, the slight hesitance...he even used his tongue this time! You took it slow on the poor thing, noticing how sensitive he was to those places that normally didn’t get touched. Where the others took a little more stimulus, his innocence was made obvious by the fact that he whimpered and moaned with every little touch of your fingers. In fact, once you slipped your hands underneath his t-shirt, it only took one brush of your fingertips against his ribs for him to yelp in surprise, pushing you up off of him with urgency. At first you withdrew your hands in shock, worried that you’d hurt him, but…

Ha. He was just holding you away from his sudden erection, a mortified and guilty expression on his skull.

“I...I’m sorry! I didn’t...I mean…” Oh God he was so innocent.

“Shh, Paps, it’s okay, really. That’s supposed to happen...didn’t...didn’t Sans ever give you the sex talk?” 

“The what?! Oh, goodness, no, that would be embarrassing!” You’d have to bring that up with Sans later. “But...this is...normal?”

You nodded. “Yup. But if you’re uncomfortable, we can stop?”

“N-no...I’d like to...nyeehhh…” He was in danger of turning into an orange. “K-keep going?”

Hoo boy. You were about to teach Papyrus what it was like to know someone biblically. Were you ready for this responsibility? You smiled sweetly at him. If you were comfortable doing this with any of these guys, it was Papyrus. He would never push you too far or do anything without asking.

“May I?” You asked, tugging gently at the waistband of his sweatpants. He nodded, watching intently as you pulled them down just enough to reveal his orange member. You could already see he was treating it like training, trying to memorize the movements as you wrapped your hand around it. He jumped as you squeezed it, covering his mouth as he moaned quietly. You quirked an eyebrow, as if to silently ask if you should continue.

“I...I LIKED THAT VERY MUCH!” He blurted, and it was your turn to cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Then you’ll love this,” You cooed gently, as you lowered your head. His sockets were wide as he watched you, and then…

He didn’t stifle any groans after that.

* * *

You yawned and stretched, noting vaguely that Papyrus was already up for the morning. 

You sighed as your neck cracked, thinking about the night before. It hadn’t taken long for Papyrus to cum, which was definitely an experience. You could still feel the magic crackling in your joints from swallowing it, and he’d looked so blissful as he pulled you in for cuddles. You hadn’t the heart to break it to him that that wasn’t even full-on sex, nor that you had been left unsatisfied. Honestly, it was satisfying enough to see him so relaxed and to feel him wrapped around you.

You noticed a bright yellow post-it on the bedside table:

 

_ GOOD MORNING, DATEMATE! _

_ LAST NIGHT WAS SO AMAZING, YOU ARE WONDERFUL! _

_ I HOPE WE CAN DO THAT AGAIN SOMETIME! _

_ I DID SOME RESEARCH WHILE YOU SLEPT, I HOPE IT WILL HELP FOR NEXT TIME! _

_ LOVE _

_ PAPYRUS _

_ P.S. WHAT IS A “DIRTY SANCHEZ”? _

 

Such a sweetheart. And...well, you’ll probably have to monitor his internet usage from now on.

You swung your legs from the bed, yawning again as you padded over to the door. When you opened it, you were unsurprised when you ran into Sans, apparently on his way past the room. His grin brightened when he caught sight of you, and he doubled back.

“mornin’ beautiful,” he said, drawing you close. “didja sleep we...hmm.” He looked at you funny, and then he chuckled a little. “damn. didn’t think i’d have to include paps in our conversations about, uh...intimacy.”

“H-how’d you…?”

“his magic’s all over you, i can feel it.” His grin was tight, and you could tell he wasn’t half as cheery about this as he made it seem. “so, you, uh...you and paps…?”

You stepped back a bit, crossing your arms. “Sans, you never gave him the sex talk.”

A guilty look shadowed his face, clearly upset that this was being turned on him. “o-oh, uh, well…”

“Well, you’d better do it. I only gave him an intro, he still knows nothing.” You said, poking him in the sternum. “Christ, Sans, he left me a note saying he’s researching on the internet, and asked what a dirty sanchez was!”

“fuck.” He said, what little color there was draining from his face. “i’ll...i’ll talk to him.” He looked down at you curiously, his grin returning as he looped his phalanges through your belt loops, pulling you flush against him. “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, dirty brother fucker.”

His grin was sincere, teasing, smug. You laughed at his poke. “Well, you certainly aren’t getting anything until you’re brother is a  _ sin _ namon bunny, Mr. Sans.”

He grimaced as you gently pushed him away, giving him a pointed look and making  _ shoo _ gestures. He grumbled a little under his breath, but he reluctantly turned and trudged off to where you assumed Papyrus must be.

* * *

This is where your day went haywire. It didn’t take long for the news to get out that you’d popped Paps’ cherry, even though it was only oral. The floodgates were open, the guys were on a mission now.

The first person to find you was Red.

You were in the laundry room, dutifully washing Papyrus’ sheets. Even though magical cum leaves little residue, you still would feel better if they were cleaned. Ugh, you wished you weren’t so short. Or that the washer wasn’t so goddamned tall. You hopped up with a huff, leaning into the washer as your feet dangled, grasping for that last sheet at the very bottom when…

The very familiar smell of a bonfire wafted into the room before you felt him press up against you from behind, leaning over with a chuckle.

“lookin’ good, sweetheart. best be careful when ya lean over like that...might not be able to control m’self.” He emphasized this by squeezing your thighs just below your butt.

You rolled your eyes, knowing Red was the fattest flirt you’d ever met. “Can’t a girl do laundry without being molested?” You teased.

“mmm...not in this house, babe.” He helped you out of the washer, setting you gently on your feet, but his hands were... _ very curious _ today. He leaned down to your ear, licking your neck lightly. “mmm…‘specially once we found out the dirty things you’d done to sweet, innocent papyrus. you’ve been  _ awfully naughty _ .”

“Ah, so that’s it. What, you guys decided not to hold back on me anymore?” You joked, turning in his grip. You expected him to make a witty quip, tease you a little, or whatever, like he usually did. Instead he leaned in, kissing you fiercely and pinning you against the washer with a low growl.

You squeaked at his sudden desire, but melted into the kiss quickly. Damn, he could kiss. He’d always been the one to push the boundaries, to go as absolutely far as he was allowed, to leave you wanting so much more…

“ya got that right, princess,” He snickered, hands grasping your ass and swinging you around, firmly setting you on the folding table and leaning over you. His hands quickly separated your thighs, then dragged you right to the very edge of the table so he could press against you. He was already at attention, as you could feel through his shorts and your yoga pants, and he purred as he rocked his bulge against you. You made a gentle groan involuntarily, twining your arms arms round his shoulders. “i’ve always loved those little noises, sweetheart. can’t fuckin’ wait to turn them into loud moans and screams.”

You couldn’t lie, you’d been waiting for Red to stop being a gentleman and just take what he wants. His flushed face and flurry of curses whenever you had to stop fooling around were the biggest tease he could manage, whether he knew it or not. His hands gripped the fabric of your pants, and you jolted and slapped his hands as you remembered a particular instance in which you had lost the use of a very comfortable pair of leggings to his lust.

“No! I like these ones!” You said sternly, and he frowned. He grumbled a bit, but when you held your legs out, he slid your pants and underwear off in one fell swoop with no hesitation.

“i kinda imagined tatters for our first time, but this is good, i guess,” he said, chuckling as he tossed the clothes behind him. “i mean, damn, guess i can’t be mad when faced with a pretty pussy like  _ this _ ~”

You gasped as his fingers touched your folds, probing gently as he leaned to press his grin against your collarbone. You remembered very urgently how last night’s affair with Papyrus had left you...unsatisfied.

“hmm...yeaaah that’s the noise i like to hear. did the _ sin _ namon bunny not get you off? doesn’t know how to work you right? or maybe...maybe you didn’t even take your pants off,  _ hmm _ ?” He knew you too well, he knew when you were left wanting. “jeez, you’re so fucking wet, i just wanna…”

He pressed his thumb against your clit as he leaned back to push his shorts down with his free hand. You were already mewling, so close to release, and his laughter was hot against your neck.

“i’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll be cross-eyed for the rest of the day,” he teased, removing his hand to line up his cock instead. He rubbed it against your slippery slit once...twice...then he was pressing inside you slowly, so slowly! “hnng...mmm...sound good, baby?”

You didn’t answer, too busy dragging your nails down the back of his skull. He clearly didn’t mind as he leaned over to catch your lips with his mouth again, and then trailed the kisses down your jaw and neck, pausing to leave increasingly sharp nips on your sensitive skin. His rhythm was slow, deliberate, and you would think he was only teasing you if it weren’t for his languid moaning, muffled against your collarbone. The moans soon turned into soft swearing, mixed with your whimpers of pleasure to create a symphony of relieved noises. If it  _ were _ a song, you’d probably name it something like “ _ oh my God it’s so huge I’m going to lose my mind” _ ...or maybe just “ _ finally _ ”.

After twenty minutes of heated kissing and slow, calculated thrusts, you were beginning to lose your mind. His breath was coming in ragged breaths now, and soon his pace became erratic. Fuck, you could feel all the sexual tension from the last three months building and building, coiling tightly, ready to spring...

“fuck, princess...i...i’m close...mmm...cum for me?” He panted. God, like you were going to have any problem doing that! You buried your face in the fluff of his hoodie, and instinctively bit down. You knew the magic allowed him a bit of give in his bones, so you weren’t surprised to feel your teeth sink a little. He gasped and his fingers dug into the flesh on your hips as he rammed into you, holding you on his cock as you both came, violently twitching and muffling your combined shouts of pleasure against each other’s bodies. You could hear him groaning your name against your shoulder.

You both paused, relaxing your grip on one another but not moving. He shivered as you tenderly kissed the new bite mark on his clavicle, and then there was stillness. A sweet, amazing stillness, where the only movement was the heaving of your chests as you gasped for air quietly.

Then a chuckle, and Red pulled the corner of a sheet out from under your ass.

“guess you gotta do the laundry again.”

“Huh...guess so.”

* * *

Your knees were weak as you stumbled out of the laundry room, once-again freshly laundered clothes in your basket. Red was currently napping off his exertion, sprawled across the folding table, which meant you had to take your laundry elsewhere to finish it. So, after a sweet kiss to his temple, you went in search of a proper space.

“HELLO, MY HUMAN! ARE YOU DOING LAUNDRY?” Blue called excitedly when you stepped into the living room. He scrambled up from his spot (way too close to the television, in your opinion) and bounced over to you, taking the laundry basket from your hands. “LET ME HELP! THE MAGNIFICENT BLUEBERRY IS GREAT AT LAUNDRY FOLDING!”

You giggled and followed him in, planting yourself on the couch while he rested on the floor, pressing back against your legs with a hum.

“So what’re we watching today?” Knowing Blue, it could be anything. One day it’s cartoons, and the next it’s a documentary about space. He was a lot smarter than he usually let on, and the same goes for that adorable innocence he always portrayed.

“Well...” He dropped his voice to an appropriate decibel for how close you were and fluffed the shirt in his hands, looking at the television with a dubious expression. He was right, he was actually good at folding. You followed his gaze to the TV and had to stifle a laugh when you saw what was on. You couldn’t recall the name, but it was the series you’d flipped by a couple of times that...well, the one that talked about sex. Fetishes. Kinks. Interviews with porn stars, sex tips, etc. You wondered just how much he’d watched...and if Stretch knew. “Stretch came in and said if I wanted to learn about humans I should watch this...AND I-IT  _ HAS _ BEEN INFORMATIVE! I just...didn’t expect it to be so...uhm…”

“Lewd?” You suggested, and he nodded gravely. You couldn’t suppress the giggle this time as you folded the pair of pants in your hands. “We can watch something else if it’s too weird?”

He shook his head and turned to grin brightly at you. “Not too weird if I’m with  _ you _ , datemate!”

Then he winked at you, causing you to start and drop the pants. Jesus, that was one  _ dirty little wink  _ that just came from your little blueberry. He chuckled at your reaction, a not-so-innocent look on his face. Then in a flash, it was gone, and he was looking at the TV again.

You kept stealing glances at him for the next hour as you both watched the documentary series. Eventually he gave up on the laundry, letting you fold while he contented himself with rubbing gentle circles on your ankles. It felt really good. Like...really good. After a while, you began to realize there was a warmth creeping up your legs from where he was tracing, and you flashed back to the night where he’d kissed you so fiercely after the carnival, and showed you how his magic can make every spot he touches feel warm and tingly. Extra pleasurable.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

He was doing it right now. You squirmed slightly, and he chuckled. “Something wrong, human?”

“N-no, nothing.”

“Hmm... _ good. _ ” Immediately, the tingle became more intense, shooting up your thighs and making you squeak. He hummed, pleased, and you felt the sensation of hands running over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs...woah... _ woah. _ This was certainly new, you didn’t know he could make it feel so...solid.

You got the sense you weren’t supposed to mention it, so you tried to focus on the television...you really did...it was just...really difficult, especially once his “hands” started rubbing your heat through the fabric of your panties. You opened your mouth to say something but--

“hey, bro. hey, babe. room for one more?”

Blue’s hands (both pairs) didn’t even slow down, he just nodded, and Stretch slid into the space between you and the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your big ol’ snugglebug...normally you’d be all for it, but now it made your heart race as Blue’s magic wormed its way underneath your underwear.

“you’re still watching this?” He asked, amused. “it was kind of a joke, bro.”

“Hmmm...BUT I’M LEARNING A LOT!”

“I-It’s more uhm, b-aaaaackground noise.” You stammered, then immediately shut your mouth. God, that was so obvious! Blue pinched your ankle to get your attention, and when you looked down, he gave you that look. The look that very clearly said “ _ don’t give it away or I’ll have to punish you” _ . How was it possible for just a simple look to bring excitement and terror at the same time?

Oh, but Stretch noticed. Or maybe he didn’t, but made his own choice. As Blue’s magic caressed your folds, stretching you ever-so-slightly, teasingly...Stretch nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, pressing slow kisses against your skin. His hands surreptitiously slid underneath your shirt, and with the weird teleportation magic of his, your bra disappeared, making you jolt with surprise.

“you alright, doll?” He breathed against your skin. You definitely got the feeling you should be sly about this, too, as his boney hands slid over your naked breasts.

“Y-yeah, f...fine. I'm fine.”

Blue’s elbows bumped against your knees as he fake-yawned, pushing your legs apart. As soon as that was done, his magic filled you, stretching you like an invisible cock, and Stretch’s fingers circled your nipples. You had to bite your lip to keep from crying out as the invisible cock began to work back and forth, occasionally rocking you back into Stretch’s lap, where you could feel his magic pressing against your lower back.

God. What were you going to do? It felt so good, both of them working you without the other knowing, surreptitiously driving you insane between them. As if in synchrony, Stretch nipped your shoulder and pinched your nipples while Blue’s magic thrusted roughly into you, and you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure.

Suddenly the magic and Stretch’s hands were both gone, and you felt Blue turn around and Stretch look up from your shoulder. Shit. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for anger or something? You didn’t know what to expect. Shitshitshit. You fucked it all up, you--

“Now, Papy?”

“yeah, i think we’ve teased her enough.”

Your eyes flew open as Stretch hoisted you up so that Blue could hook his thumbs into the waistband of your pants. Wait. Wait. Wha...what?

You turned to stare at Stretch as Blue pulled your pants and underwear off with a flourish. Stretch’s smirk, combined with Blue’s mischievous grin when you turned your stare on him...these assholes planned this!

“...The whole time?” You managed to squeak as Blue’s real fingers tested your wetness, his other hand pushing his pants down to reveal his cyan member.

“The whooooole time~” Blue cooed, a glint in his eye as he brought the fingers back to his face, licking your slick wetness off of them.

“mmm...shoulda seen your face. you were trying  _ so hard _ not to yell.” Stretch muttered. You felt his own cock pressing against your backside as Blue positioned himself in front. “it worked like a charm, too. blue is a genius at traps after all, ain’tcha bro?”

“Mmmm…” Blue grunted in agreement, leaning in to kiss you as he pressed against your entrance.

You couldn’t help but agree as well, you thought, as Stretch lowered you down on both of their cocks, that this was indeed a very, very efficient trap.

* * *

When you were doing the lunch dishes, Edge found you.

Without a word, he had turned the water off, thrown you over his shoulder, and stalked off with you up the stairs to his room.

“THE SAFEWORD IS CLEMENTINES.” he’d drawled casually as he tossed you on the bed, undoing his belt buckle.

“S-Safe word?” You had asked, but he never answered, just descended on you like a predatory on its prey.

Edge had no intention of taking things slow. Now that things were open to intimacy, he wanted all of you, he wanted you to know what he liked, he wanted to know what  _ you _ liked. You ended up using the safeword twice (once because his repeated assault of your already sensitive cunt, while amazing, was threatening to rip you in half, and once because he was teasing so fiercely that you were crying from pure rage that he wouldn’t let you cum) and each time he stopped immediately, dutifully, and paused to take stock, ask what you wanted, and then after several minutes’ break you would resume and he’d immediately amend his mistakes.

Currently he was sinking his teeth into your shoulder without hesitation, feral growl reverberating as you screamed pleasurably and came fast and hard around his hilted member. With a grunt, you felt him spill his magic inside you, and the newly familiar feeling of magic coursed through your body, making you groan and sigh as it lit up your sensitive areas. You knew enough to know some of the bruises he had left you were already healing from the magic.

He unclamped his jaw, licking the tender bite wound gently, and his rough hands released you as he pulled out, leaving you feeling a little empty. You started to protest, but then his hands were on you again, and  _ oh my God _ , they were so gentle as he lifted you off the bed, cradling you to his chest. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, and he hummed in satisfaction as he returned the embrace.

“You did very good, my little human,” He cooed, making you flush and bury your head into the crook of his neck. He didn’t compliment you directly very often. It was usually something backhanded or tsundere, leaving you confused, but this was obviously a high praise. “I’m pleased to see you use the safeword, that you aren’t afraid of it.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you responded by leaning up to kiss his jaw gently, making him flush orange. This was bliss. In the arms of the ones that you love...you looked around curiously as he started walking with you, wondering where he was taking you when you were still completely naked. You realized his gait was geared towards his bathroom, and you barely had time to guess what that meant before he toed the door open and you gasped at the sight.

Candles. Dozens of them. Flickering in the low light of the bathroom, perched on every safe flat surface. The bath was drawn (in a gigantic jacuzzi style tub), full of bubbles and some delightful citrus smell wafted from the water.

“Edge, oh my God,” you whispered quietly. He chuckled as he swiftly and carefully carried you over to the tub, lowering you gingerly so you could step in.

The second the water hit your sore body, you moaned slightly. The feeling was indescribable, the water just the right temperature. He helped you ease into the bubbles and lean back.

“My dating handbook says aftercare is an important step, not to be ignored,” he said, sitting next to the tub. He was so tall that he could still easily lean over and nuzzle your hair, your neck, your shoulder. You sighed at the combination of Edge’s gentle touches and the bath’s soothing water. “Well?”

He was swirling his finger in the water, and you could feel the tingle of magic on your skin, the way Blue had done but instead of sexual energy it was relieving your aches.

“Fuck, Edge. This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.” You say, sincerely surprised. You turn to give his skull another quick smooch but instead he brings a hand to your face and turns it into a sweet, long kiss. “Mmmm...that, too. That’s nice.”

“You  _ are _ my human, after all. I must care for you, make you feel special. I can’t have you leaving me.” He has realized that his genuine compliments make you blush, you can tell. God, he’s laying it on so thick. You splash him playfully, and he grimaces.

“Well, are you just gonna sit there, or are you going to get in?” He gave you a quizzical look, and then sees the playful grin on your face. He smirked, and very quickly stood to begin peeling his clothes off.

You scooted forward so he could step in behind you, and while he didn’t pull you closer once he was settled, he sighed contentedly as you leaned your head back against his ribs. His hands found a comfortable spot on your hips, rubbing slow circles as you closed your eyes, humming quietly.

You felt his kiss before the tingle, and you knew he was healing the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Oh, wait, don’t heal that.” He froze, and you could almost feel the incredulous stare from behind you as he lifted his head away from your shoulder. “I’m sure you like seeing your marks on me, right? Well...I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?” He sounded very genuinely confused, and while the bruise did ache a little, it wasn’t awful. You shook your head.

“Not enough to bother me.”

“...Well, alright then.” And then, more confidently: “Of course you’d want my marks on you, I  _ am _ the best, after all.”

He puffed his chest out, ribs bumping into your head, as he went on a rant about how you were so lucky to belong to a great, fearsome monster such as he. You giggled and nodded along, running the washcloth over his bones with care. The hot water and pleasant aroma were making you a little sleepy, and more than a little relaxed.

So relaxed, that you accidentally slid the washcloth into the space between his bones, causing him to squeak in surprise. It was a very unmanly squeal, and then, as if to compensate, a threatening growl. He snatched the washcloth out of your hands.

“WATCH WHAT YOU ARE DOING, YOU...you…” He stared at your shocked expression for a moment, hand squeezing the washcloth so tight it was dripping. Then his own grimace softened, and he released a sigh. “I...I mean, be careful.”

He was trying so hard to be relaxing and kind, you realized. Because he was trying to make you feel better after he absolutely brutalized you in bed.

You sat up and turned around, pressing your wet, naked breasts against his ribs as you leaned up to kiss him. His hands slid back to your waist, moaning into the kiss.

“Sorry, Sugar Skull. Guess you had me so relaxed I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hmmm...then maybe we should wake you up?” He said, panting as he finally released the kiss.

You could feel his magic poking your thigh. Oops, definitely your fault. But instead of tossing you around like you expected, he pulled you close for another long kiss.

Even Edge can be sweet sometimes, you suppose.

* * *

You spent the rest of the day wondering when Sans would come along and sweep you away, like the others had. You knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let these guys beat him...if they were all gonna have first times with you, they better end up all in the same day or else there’s dominance issues. Monsters, heh.

But by the time you’d finished the dinner dishes and turned out the lights downstairs, he still hadn’t shown up. As you headed upstairs to read Papyrus his bedtime story, you wondered if maybe he really wouldn’t be trying anything today.

Heh. Probably because you told him he was getting none until he gave Papyrus the “talk”.

You expected Papyrus to be snuggled in bed, waiting for you, but as soon as you opened the door he scooped you up into his arms.

“HELLO DATEMATE! I missed you very much today!” He said cheerfully, squeezing you tight until you giggled.

“Aww, I missed you too, Cinnabunny!” You said, planting a sweet kiss on his forehead as he held you. He turned on his heel, kicking the door closed, and trotted over to the bed with you in his arms.

“Did you know, Datemate? Sans and I had a long talk today, and he told me many things!” Oh. So it  _ had _ happened. He flopped on the bed, squeezing you again. “And I simply want to apologize for my ignorance, my sweet. I did not know I had left you unsatisfied last night, and I feel just awful about it!”

“Oh, baby, it’s okay! I was just happy to pleasure  _ you _ .” 

He beamed down at you in his arms.

“While I am glad to hear that, it just won’t do for you to ever leave my bed without satisfaction.” He said, finally releasing you to tap you on your nose. “BUT DO NOT FRET, MY LOVE! Sans has agreed to teach me all the ways to pleasure you! You should prepare, he will be down soon!”

Huh? What does that...oh.

You wrinkled your nose in a confused look. “What, is he going to give a lecture or something?”

“more like a demonstration, actually.” came the familiar chuckle from your side, making you jump back into Papyrus’ arms with a little shriek. Sans covered his laugh with one hand as he dropped onto the bed on his knees. Papyrus laid you back down and scooted a few feet away, producing an actual notebook as if he were in an actual class.

“Sans...really?” You asked him, jerking your head towards Papyrus. “This morning you hadn’t even given him the sex talk, and now you want to bone in front of him? And who even says I’m okay with tha--”

He cut you off by kissing you fiercely, one hand winding into your hair and the other slipping just below the waistband of your pants. By the time he pulled away, you had a dazed look in your eyes. Fuck, he was a good kisser, always had been.

“relax, babygirl,” he murmured into your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it. “s’just paps, and i can’t treat him like a babybones forever. besides…”

He dipped closer so only you could hear.

“ _ i saw ya in the living room with stretch and blue. you seemed alright with two cocks in ya then. _ ”

The glint in his eye said he had no intention of double penetrating you, that he was just trying to get you worked up. Asshole always makes that face when he tells you he’s going to the bar to meet hot chicks.

Nevertheless, the fact that he had indeed seen you getting double-teamed made you blush.

“ready, bro?” Sans asked nonchalantly, as if he didn’t see your mortification.

“READY!” Papyrus said eagerly, brandishing his paper and pen. Oh, God, he was taking this so seriously it was almost comical.

And with that, Sans launched into his ‘demonstration’. 

He started with kissing. “humans are all different, but  _ our _ little human has some fun spots that you can play with. like here--” He leaned down and kissed your jaw, right by your ear, making you melt underneath him. “--and here--” He kissed your collarbone, swirling his tongue over the bruise that Edge had left (you suspected on purpose). “--and here, too.”

He surprised you by pushing your shirt up and kissing your sternum, hands pressing against the sides of your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples gently. You keened slightly at his touch, and you could  _ feel _ his smug smile against your skin.

He was such a fucking  _ tease _ . As he moved through the talking points (touching, rubbing, fingering, and oh, God,  _ oral _ ) he would do whatever it was until you were  _ just about to cum _ . Then he’d stop, smirking like the ass that he was, and drawl some pointer to Papyrus, as if reminding you that you can’t get mad because the sweet Cinnabunny is watching. By the time his hands reached down to push the waistband of his shorts down, revealing a frighteningly huge blue member (seriously, you were 100% certain that would not fit), you were glaring daggers at him with a false smile slapped on your face. He is relishing that look, returning it with one that clearly reads  _ ‘this is for making me have the sex talk with my brother _ ’.

“Is there something wrong, brother? She seems so tense.”

“nah, paps. that’s just ‘cause she really wants me.” He said with a chuckle, positioning his cock against your slit and rubbing to prove his point. And oh, you didn’t want to, but you moaned lewdly, wiggling your hips to try and encourage him to give you more. “heh. see what i mean? how can you be so thirsty when you’ve fucked everyone in this house in the last 24 hours, huh?”

You were about to respond with venom, but Papyrus interrupted you with a scandalized gasp.

“COMIC SANS SERIF ASTER! THAT WAS A VERY RUDE THING TO SAY TO OUR DATEMATE!” Papyrus huffed, pulling you to him protectively. “APOLOGIZE!”

“heh. sorry, i wasn’t thinkin’. dirty talk might be a little beyond you, paps.” he said, and he seemed legitimately apologetic. “but it’s okay, bro. she doesn’t mind, do you, babygirl?”

“I...I really don’t.” You admitted quietly. Then you smiled mischeviously. “Wait, your first name is Comic? Your name is  _ actually _ Comic Sans?”

Sand flushed a bright blue and grimaced. He grabbed your hips and dragged you out of Papyrus’ grip. “watch what you say, now, little lady. might have to be less gentle.”

“Whatever you say,  _ Comic _ .” You said, feeling sassy due to all the teasing.

He growled a little, and then yanked you fully from Papyrus’ arms, pulling you flush against him.

“alright, then. playtime's over. paps--” He pulled you into position in his lap, lining up with your sex as you shivered under his gaze. “--you’re gonna wanna write this part down.”

* * *

All things considered, it had worked out rather nicely. After he sufficiently punished you for your rudeness (and received a scolding from Papyrus once again, as he believed he should be gentler), he really went to town, showing Papyrus every trick he had and making very gentle love to you. You figured he was more rough, usually, but your Cinnabunny wasn’t like that, so you supposed he wanted to set a realistic ideal.

It was like slowly burning, a fire in your body that was increasing with every touch, every stroke. Fuck, how do you get him to do this every time? By the time you finally came, it was just bliss, back arched as he hummed against you, shuddering with his own release. 

As he cleaned you up, Papyrus asked questions. Lots of questions. It embarrassed you, actually, as you had completely forgotten he was there for that last portion of it.

“bro, let’s leave the questions there tonight. she’s had a long day at everyone’s mercy. ain’t that right, beautiful?”

You nodded sleepily, and as he went to remove himself, you grabbed his sweater. He looked at you with that grin on his face. “Stay. Wanna sleep with both of you here.”

“mmm...okay. you got it, babygirl.”

Papyrus agreed wholeheartedly, and as they snuggled up to either side of you, you felt relief.

Just...so relieved.

So much love, not just lust, was shared today. You loved each of your boys with every fibre of your being, and as your eyes slid closed, and you felt Papyrus pull both of you close, Sans wrapping his arms around your waist…

Yeah, you definitely made the right decision.


	6. Baby Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red is surprised to find his date has a handsome man waiting at home for her.

You were having a good time. A great time, actually.

When your nosy neighbor had insisted on setting you up with someone from her work (well, pestered you for weeks, really…) you hadn’t expected to actually enjoy yourself. You hadn’t expected him to be cool, and funny, and charming. You hadn’t expected him to be sincere, and unabashed, and sweet.

You especially hadn’t expected him to be a monster.

A skeleton, really. But despite being literally bones, he wasn’t unattractive or inexpressive. His eyesockets held little crimson lights, and his face was surprisingly capable of moving to convey emotion. He was certainly a character, and you found yourself laughing in spite of yourself. 

Maybe if he offers, you should let him walk you home.

* * *

Sans didn’t think he would enjoy himself tonight, at least not at dinner. He’d taken the crazy lady from work’s idea with a grain of salt, thinking it’s been too long since his last hookup anyway. He’d expected some middle-aged woman with cats, or maybe some homely niece.

Instead, he’d gotten you.

God. Jackpot.

You were young, early twenties, and you were absolutely beautiful. You’d chosen to wear a simple black dress and flats (good, he fuckin’ hates those stupid heels women wear) and your lips were ruby red and turned up in a smile. He figured out pretty quickly that it’d been awhile since you’d gone out like this, what with your constant fixing your dress, glancing at your plate, and general awkwardness.

So he’d cracked a joke in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

“what did the skeleton say when he went into the bar?” Your questioning glance spurred him to continue. “he said: i’ll have a beer and a mop.”

For a tense few seconds he thought you wouldn’t laugh, but then...then you did. You laughed really loud. After that it was a race to see if he could get you to snort by cracking joke after joke, revelling in the bell-like laughter as you genuinely found mirth in his humour. By the end of the night, he was shocked to find that he was sad to get the check.

He’d planned on at the most making it a one-night stand, but he didn’t think you deserved that. Besides, there’s no way a girl like you would even…

“can i walk you home?” he found himself offering, holding out a hand to help you up from your chair. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

And then you took his hand.

* * *

He didn’t let go of your hand the entire walk back to your apartment complex. He cracked a million more jokes, vaguely thinking about what he might do once you got home. Should he kiss you? Should he try to come in? Should he ask for a second date? God, he’d never seriously considered dating a human before, this was all so new. 

He found himself sweating by the time you stopped in front of your apartment. He wanted to ask to come in, but he sensed the hesitance in your form.

“you don’t got some handsome man waitin’ inside for ya, i hope?” He joked, releasing your hand finally and shoving his into his pockets. You smiled sheepishly.

“Uh, kinda. Yeah.”

Floored. That was the only reaction he could think of. His head was spinning. Really? A taken woman, out on a date with him? What was that Marjorie woman from work thinkin’? What--

The door swung open behind you, revealing a somewhat haggard looking teenage girl.

“Oh, Miss Y/N, I’m so glad you’re home! Please, I’ve done all the things, and he just won’t stop crying! I tried putting on the music you gave me but he just cries over it!”

Okay, Sans is confused.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, Charlotte, please, bring him here!” You said, turning your back on him and stepping into the doorway. The girl took off out of sight. He hovered, unsure if that was his invitation to leave.

Oh.

The teenage girl returned and placed a small infant in your arms, wailing loudly and kicking feebly.

_ Oh. _

You cradled the baby softly, glancing over at Sans with a look that was hard to place as you attempted to dig the babysitter’s pay out of your purse while balancing the child. Did you think he was going to run?

Instinctively he reached out to relieve you of the child, casting you a reassuring grin as he did. He was so small and squishy, and red from crying.

Needless to say, you were surprised. The second Sans removed your son from your arms, he stopped crying, staring wide-eyed up at the skeleton.

“hey, kid. that’s better, ain’t it? let mama pay the nice sitter, eh?” He cooed, settling the baby against his clavicle, where he promptly stuck his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes.  The expression in Sans’ eyes changed immediately, and his hand came up to support to baby’s back. “he...he’s cute. how old? what’s his name?”

“Six months. His name’s Mason,” You said, drawing the cash from your wallet and handing it to Charlotte, who stood there rigidly, staring up at the six-foot-tall skeleton monster you’d brought home. She grabbed the money, mumbled a good night, and took off down the steps. “Oh, uh, come in, then.”

“oh, yeah, ‘course.” He walked slowly, so as not to jostle the sleeping babe. You closed the door gently, still staring at him. Most guys turn tail as soon as you mention ‘baby’, and you’d sorta expected him to be no different.

“Coffee?” You asked, unsure of what to do now.

“yeah, yeah i’d like that. where’s the crib?”

“You can put him in the swing,” you said, gesturing to the rocker next to the couch. You watched as he carefully handled Mason, placing him gently in the rocker and humming at him, Mason’s tiny finger curled around his distal phalange. When he was certain he was down, he stood, and you remembered you were supposed to be making coffee, not staring dumbly at him. You quickly started fumbling around in the cupboards for mugs. “Y-you’re good at that. Do you have kids, Sans?”

“mmm, nah, but i raised my brother from about that small. monsters grow a little faster than humans, but still.” He glanced back at Mason, sleeping peacefully. “yours bites less than mine, though. least there’s that.”

You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped. This was all so absurd. You finally found a guy that is not only not afraid of Mason, but is good with him. And all he has to say about the situation is ‘at least he doesn’t bite’?

He’s suddenly by your side, hand on top of the mug you’re holding, concern in his eyes.

“you didn’t mention ‘im at dinner. were you afraid i’d bail if i knew?”

Sigh. “Wouldn’t be the first.”

“dad, too?” he asked quietly, as if unsure if he should. You nodded. Mason’s father had left when you’d told him you were pregnant. He wanted no part of it. Sans’ expression grew cold, and he scowled. “disgusting. there’s nothing in this world more important than family. and nothin’ more fulfilling than kids. every time i look at my brother, i can’t help but remember that at least that’s one good thing i’ve done.”

“H-he had a lot to do, he was a very important guy, and...well…” Well, if anyone had found out the 45 year-old, married CEO of a huge company had gotten a 21-year-old girl pregnant… “It was an affair, he never wanted a life with me. B-but it’s okay, because I have Mason.”

His skeletal hand squeezed yours, his grin tight and a distant look in his sockets. “some big-shot married guy, huh? eh, shit happens, i guess. his loss...my gain.”

He surprised you by leaning over and bumping his teeth against your cheek, and you could feel the sensation of lips. A kiss. You turned your face away, not wanting him to see the furious blush that covered your cheeks.

“Y-you really want me?” You muttered. “Some kid with an infant? I’ve got baggage, Sans, expensive baggage that is getting bigger by the day.”

“yeah, kids tend to do that.”

“I’m serious.”

“so am i.”

You turned to meet his gaze as his hand fell to your lower back. He pulled you close, using his other hand to move the mugs aside, and then he swiftly scooped you up and set you on the counter so that you were eye-level with him.

“listen, i dunno if you noticed, but the baby don’t bother me. and, i’ll just say it, you’re a milf, sweetheart. one hot mama, ya know?” Oh, god, your face is literally on fire, you think. “and you’re funny, you’re sweet, an’ ya laugh at my jokes. i couldn’t be any more serious.”

“Sans--”

“i came on this date expecting the worst. expectin’ some vacant girl, or homely spinster, or whatever, maybe get a little action outta it, i ain’t gonna lie. but i got you, and suddenly i wasn’t interested in just foolin’ around. i wanted more. the baby doesn’t change that.”

And you were kissing him. And he was kissing you. And he let you take the lead, let you be comfortable, let you set the limits as his hands tightened on your waist and little moans escaped both of you. You wouldn’t be ready for intimacy for a while, and he seemed to sense that and be okay with it. Instead, you kissed him until you couldn’t breathe, until he was sweating and flushed red.

Until Mason woke up and started crying, and Sans laughed, and you laughed, and he held him, and he rocked him, and the three of you fell asleep on the couch watching reruns of  _ Mister Roger’s Neighborhood _ .

When Mason learned to talk, he called him “Dada.”


	7. Sugar Baby Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has a secret admirer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will have other parts that I will also add to this one-shot series, and don't worry, I will link them all together when the time comes.

If there was one constant in Sans’ life since the Ascension, it was that Grillby was still a fucking tightass. Never in his life had the edgy monster ever gotten away without paying. He assumed tonight would be no different, but being the smartass that he was...

“put it on my tab?” He asked jokingly, smirking at the elemental just like every night. He chuckled at the bemused reaction, reaching for his wallet.

“Very well. Have a pleasant evening, Sans.”

He froze, fingers nearly touching the wallet in his pocket, turning wide sockets on his old friend, who seemed very interested in wiping a glass.

“uhh...sorry, come again?”

“I said it’s on your tab. Good night.”

He didn’t intend to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he sprinted out of there before Grillby could come to his senses. Must’ve been an off night, he figured.

But then it happened again. And again. And again. Every time he said to put it on his tab, Grillby just accepted it and let him leave, without so much as a nervous flicker of his purple flames. One time he even refused Sans’ money, insisting it was taken care of. That was where he drew the line.

“alright, what the fuck, man?” Sans grimaced, crushing the bills in his hands as Grillby pushed his palm away. “who are you and what’ve you done with grillby?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He looked like he might laugh at Sans’ obvious distress.

“bullshit. you never turn down cold, hard cash. and you never let me stack it on a tab, ‘least of all for this long.”

He  _ did _ laugh, a deep crackle like a campfire. “I thought you’d never ask.” He leaned over to his register and pulled out an envelope, sliding it towards him. “Somebody left this here a few weeks ago. I’m only following directions.”

He squinted at his friend incredulously as he picked up the envelope, peering inside. A reloadable gift card and a note.

 

_ Grillby _

_ I’ve grown fond of your mustard-guzzling friend. Use this card to pay for anything he might buy in the foreseeable future. _

 

He stared at the curly handwriting with a blank face. No name. No number. Just “pay for this random dude’s everything” like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“who…?”

Grillby shrugged, purple flames flaring in amusement. “Don’t know. Didn’t question it.”

“what kinda person just...wait, it doesn’t just say food. it says anything,” he smirked, flicking the card out of the envelope with a devilish grin. “right?”

“As long as you continue to pay me I don’t give a shit.”

* * *

“Anything” turned out to be just that. At first he didn’t want to try his luck, but there must be a ridiculous amount of money on the card because it never got rejected, not anywhere. He bought new shoes, new clothes, hell, even some new boots for Papyrus, who was suspicious yet flattered to receive them. He wasn’t a material guy normally, but hey, some sucker wants to pay for everything? Then they’ll pay for everything.

He was feeling pretty high on life the next time he strolled into Grillby’s in his new converse. Grillby only rolled his eyes, looking pointedly at him until he flashed the card.

“You look nice.”

He jumped slightly, surprised. He hadn’t noticed you sitting at the bar. Damn, that was one fine-looking woman, he couldn’t help but think. He had seen you around before, well-dressed and looking like you just stepped out of the world’s most boring meeting. You had unbuttoned your blouse tonight, in an effort to look more casual, and he could see the black lacy camisole underneath, and just the right amount of cleavage. You brought your drink up to sip with ease, leaving a little red lipstick mark on the edge of the glass. You glanced at him sideways, seeming to punctuate your statement.

“heh. thanks, dollface. you’re pretty smokin’ yourself.”

You smiled at his compliment, returning to your drink. He made small talk as Grillby served his food,  but you didn’t say much. At the end of the evening, when you stood, just as he was starting to get the impression his flirting wasn’t working, you pulled a paper from your bag and slid it over to him, winking and turning to leave without a word.

He watched you leave, more for the view than the drama, and then snatched up the paper, unfolding it.

He stared.

When he finally processed what it was, he let out a bark of laughter. A bank statement showing everything he’d bought over the last couple of days, and a note, written in the same curly handwriting as the one Grillby had received.

 

_ So did the chucks come before or after the strip club? _

_ If you want more where that card came from, then come visit me. _

_ Xoxo _

 

And...an address.

* * *

And so he stood in front of your house, paper crinkling in his grasp as he stared up at the modestly decorated property. It was huge, but not gaudy, and the yard wasn’t perfectly manicured like the others in the neighborhood. You liked to keep things simple. He could respect that.

He pulled on the collar of his dress shirt, wondering if he’d made a mistake dressing up. Papyrus had insisted but…

No. No time for doubts, he had to figure out what your damage was. He strode through the open gate and approached the house.

Before he could knock, the door opened.

You looked over him in front of you, a smirk playing on your lips. He’d dressed up for you. How adorable.

“Can I help you, stranger from the bar?” You asked innocently.

“mmm, yeah. i’m looking for my surprisingly hot sugar mama. looks just like ya.” He said, smirking at you, hands in his pockets.

“Hmmm, I’ll see if I can find her. Come in.” He didn’t hesitate to oblige, strolling past you with a cocky grin on his face. You closed the door behind him. “You buy that outfit with my card, Slugger?”

“hey, note said ‘anything’. shoulda been more specific.” He shrugged, looking around your house with interest. “nice place you got here.”

“You’re terrible at small talk,” you said from behind him, making him turn to grimace at you.

“i don’t see any other sugar babies in here. you buy everyone dinner for a month or just me?”

“Just you.” You said, nodding towards the living room. “In here.”

Okay, he’d kinda been joking about the sugar mama thing, but you weren’t even phased. When he walked into the room, you had already set up for his visit (how’d you know he was coming?) with a spread of sandwiches and a bottle of mustard. Just what the hell did you want, anyway? He’d assumed his silent benefactor would’ve been some homely spinster, but you...you were hot as fuck. You didn’t need to buy his love, hell, he’d probably pay  _ you _ .

“I’m y/n, by the way. I don’t think we got that far last night.” You were holding a hand out to him expectantly, so he took it, and instead of shaking it he brought it to his teeth in a skelekiss.

“m’sans. nice to meetcha.” He breathed against the back of your hand. You were really soft, he noted, and you smelled nice. He hoped whatever sugar mama complex you had going included bangin’, because he wanted to whip those sandwiches to the floor and take you right there. “so, you mad i took your card for a test drive?”

“No.”

“but i  _ mustard _ spent at least 500 dollars.”

“Be that as it  _ mayo _ , Sans, I can’t bring myself to mind.”

**_0.99999_ **

Holy fuck, that was a perfectly executed pun. You didn’t even skip a beat. He released your hand in his surprise, trying to regain his composure. Sexy  _ and _ funny? Fuck, did he win the jackpot if you were actually interested.

“I’m sorry, was that too  _ saucy _ ? I  _ relish _ the idea of making you speechless.”

You were advancing on him, hand sliding up over the soft button down shirt to dip behind his neck. As your fingers brushed over his cervical vertebrae, he shuddered involuntarily.

“So how about it, bone boy? Looking for a sugar mama? Or do I need to search somewhere else?”

* * *

You had him practically moved in within a week. He had his own room, though he got the feeling he was welcome in yours, and you’d even made up a room for Papyrus once he’d expressed hesitation in leaving him behind.

You were something else. Despite your ridiculous wealth (he’d once asked for a ballpark estimate, and you’d simply said “Yeah, I could buy a ballpark.”) you didn’t employ many servants in your household. You had a maid who comes by once a week, and even then you often cut her off early with a tip. You had made your fortune all on your own (contrary to his original theory that you were a trust fund baby) by working your way up through the local energy company from secretary all the way to CEO. And you were only in your late 20s! On top of that, you spent a great deal of time volunteering in the monster equality movement, whether it be financially investing or attending the rallies. You had even founded a charity that was focused on building safe and affordable housing for monsters, helping monsters into the workforce, and supporting monster/human relationships and their rights. Now that he was here with you, he remembered hearing Asgore talk highly of such a human. He never would have guessed you’d take him in like this.

Oh, and that’s not all.

“you cook?” He asked incredulously, staring at the counters full of food prep when he came home one night, shortly after moving in.

“I’m no gourmet. But I’ve been on my own a long time, I'd pretty much be dead if I didn't.”

And it was fucking good, too. As he tried to restrain himself from scarfing food like the animal he is, he started to feel that nervous twist in his stomach...or where his stomach would be, anyway. You were absolutely perfect. He was certain that when you did get around to kissing and making love, you’d be absolutely perfect at that, too. Really. A hard worker, a saint, a great cook, a perfect ass...what’s the catch? No, really, he wondered what it was. His mind took him to some weird places, too. What if you were secretly a serial killer? Pft, so was he, sorta. Okay, but what if you had some secret disgusting kink? Come on. This is Sans we’re talking about, the dirtier the better, really. It’s all mob money? That would actually be awesome, he won’t lie.

Okay, so he can’t think of anything that will ruin this for him…

Until you set the contract down. He’ll admit, it unnerved him a bit.

“...what’s this?”

“My terms. Agree or don’t, but if you don’t I can’t keep you here.”

He studied your face. You were very serious. He slowly slid the papers towards him, glancing over some of the things on the first page. No dating anyone else, no hookups, no bringing potential partners over. Okay, that makes sense. A little offensive that you think he’d do that to you.

“...you afraid i’d cheat?”

You shook your head. 

“Not particularly. But I want there to be no mistake…” You leaned across the table so he could see straight down your camisole, and drew one finger down his mandible, placing the dirtiest little kiss on his cheekbone. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia, a longing for something he could never quite reach before, as his skull moved with you, trying to keep your kiss on him. “You’re mine.”

He signed it so fast he couldn’t even remember doing it.

\----

The rules were simple:

  1. No dating or hooking up with anyone else
  2. Sans could wear whatever he wanted, unless you requested something else. He had to wear what you picked.
  3. Sans would accompany you to any event you requested him to.
  4. Sans would keep the card you’d given Grillby, but he must remember that you can see the transactions
  5. Sans has free reign of the house (and Papyrus, by extension)
  6. Sans must never pry into business you didn’t willingly share, and must never look at your phone.



The last one kind of bugged him. What were you hiding? However...the rest of the terms were more than fair, he had to admit. And to think, he’d landed him and Paps such a swanky setup by...what, drinking mustard at Grillby’s where you could see? Couldn’t ask for anything better for a lazy bones like him.

You doted on him. When you got home each night, you would seek him out for cuddles (damn, he really liked that) and usually to give him something you’d picked up just for him (one time it was spicy honey mustard, and it was the bomb.com). Then you’d kiss him on the cheekbone and sweep off to make whatever he felt like for dinner. You made him feel like  _ he  _ was the breadwinner and  _ you _ were the housewife, the way you spent your time carefully spoiling him. Even without sex he was so content in this life with you, as if you’d been together for years.

“why d’you do all this for me?” He asked one evening, while you were curled against his side. He was running his phalanges through your hair, marvelling at how incredibly soft it was. “make me feel like a king?”

“Isn’t that what sugar mamas do?” You muttered sleepily. Must have been a long day, you usually don’t cuddle this long. You had flopped right onto him when you came through the door, shoe still hanging off one foot, hair halfway undone (he had quickly undone the rest so he could touch it like he was), and laid sweet kisses on his jaw as you sunk into his embrace.

“yeah, but i mean why me? s’far as I know, all I did was get drunk on mustard and shout profanities in a bar.”

You shifted in his grasp as little, and seemed to be thinking out your answer carefully.

“...You remind me of someone.”

Oh. His hand hesitated, hovering over your hair. He reminded you of someone? Who? He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that it actually wasn’t him, it was the memory of someone else keeping him tethered to you.

“heh. where’s the other guy, then? why d’you need me?”

"He died."

"...oh." Well, now he felt like a jackass.

“It’d sound pretty crazy if I told you everything. Just trust me when I say I really do need you.”

You lifted your head and your eyes were full of hurt. He sighed, cupping your face gently.

“m’sorry, dollface. rule #6, no pryin’ in your business, right?”

“No, it’s alright. You’re allowed to ask questions, just...if I say to stop, please do.”

“c’mon, sugar mama, who ya think you're talkin’ to?”

* * *

Weeks passed. He was starting to wonder what exactly you wanted from him. You’d never tried to even kiss him, other than the cute little pecks you give him when leaving or just arriving. And you certainly hadn’t tried to make a move on him, or anything like that. He knew his place wasn’t to pry or initiate, so he politely kept his hands in PG places, but...

He was starting to get...pent up. He’d been good, he hadn’t had any affairs or hookups, he hadn’t even looked at another girl. So what, were you simply not interested in sex with him? He was certainly interested himself. God, he wanted to do more than cuddle you and touch your hair.

He decided to be more...daring. He began to crawl into bed with you at night, revelling in your sweet giggles as he pulled you close, the swell of your ass fitting perfectly in the curve of his pelvis. He would wait until you were asleep, and then he’d relieve his magic in the bathroom before slipping back into the bed, trying not to wake you.

And for a while, that was enough. But not for long. It was getting to the point where he could barely stop himself from forming his cock when you pressed a kiss against his brow. Hell, he’d get warm just hearing the door swing open when you came home, knowing you were about to throw that sexy fucking body on him.

And warm he was when he heard you come home today.

It was the same thing as usual, and he quickly scampered to the living room couch and opened his arms for you as you walked into the room. Oh, man, you were wearing that cute skirt today, the black pencil skirt with the stretch waistband. He was so weak for that skirt.

You crawled into his arms, peppering his jaw with those little kisses that drive him insane, and collapsed your body against his with a sigh.

His hands were just itching to touch your ass in that skirt. He gently untucked your blouse, and you moved only slightly with a sigh, as he’d done that before. He could feel the warmth in his bones, he’d be an oven in a few minutes if he didn’t do something. His fingers dipped under the waistband of the skirt gently, and he tried not to audibly sigh as his bones met your soft skin.

You made a little moan, and that was it.

“fuck, sweetheart. i can’t do this anymore!” He groaned, feeling his magic pooling underneath his shorts. He sat up, dragging you up into his lap, hand plunging up underneath your camisole, splaying across your lower back to pull you closer, the other hand tangling in your hair. He pulled you flush to him, inches away from your surprised face. He wanted to kiss you fiercely, but he caught himself. He couldn’t lose you now, he just had to make his intentions known.

He opened his mouth to explain himself, but--

“Oh, God, finally,” you sighed. “I was starting to worry you didn’t want me that way.”

And before it could process, your lips were on him, feverish and unrestrained as you kissed his mouth. He groaned into the kiss, trying to pull you closer, feeling his magic taking form faster than he’d ever done. The hand on your back moved to push your skirt up so that when he ground against you, you could feel him.

“why the fuck did you think i didn’t want you?” He growled, ripping your shirt open, buttons flying everywhere.

“N-not important. You do want me, right?”

“fuckin’ obviously!” He said, exasperated. “i been cradlin’ your ass every night so i can jack in your bathroom and pretend it’s you. shit, I get hot just knowin’ you're gonna come lay on me when you get home!”

You were giggling as he muttered the words against your collarbone.

“God, you’re exactly how I remember. Now, Sans...” you said, cupping his cheekbones and raising his gaze to you. “...come give mama some sugar.”

“oh,  _ fuck yes _ .”

He pulled you down, kissing you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip. You shuddered, and he groaned as your tongue returned the favor. So pent up, waited so long...he wanted you so bad, and fuck if he wasn’t going to have you.

“this fuckin’ skirt...so fuckin’ sexy. you traipsin’ around that office in front-a all them interns like this?”

“Hush, you’re the only one and you know it.”

He growled, almost a snarl. “fuckin’ right i am, sweetheart.”

You had already pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and your hands had wound under his shirt to wrap around his ribs.

“d-damn, dollface. you haven’t been practicing on my brother, have ya?” He groaned, wondering how you knew exactly where to go.

“Lucky guess~”

He gasped as you leaned in to lick his cervical vertebrae, a very sensitive spot for him, practically a secret.

“y-you must be one lucky woman, then, jeez.”

You pulled back to regard him with that same sad look in your eyes.

“You have no idea.”

* * *

It didn’t occur to him until later, after you’d thoroughly enjoyed each other’s bodies for the better part of the evening, that your words were strange.

How you remember? As far as he knew, he’d been pretty gentlemanly the entire time he’d known you.

He stared down at you with one socket open sleepily. Somehow you’d both made your way up to his room, and you looked so nice against his pillows, so sweet. When you slept, you were so open and trusting, a whole different person. He could see a shadow of the girl before all the hard work, the girl who simply wanted something, but didn’t know how to get it.

His eyes flicked to your phone on the side table. The rules were pretty specific about your phone. That meant that whatever you were hiding...it had to be on there. 

He was always terrible at impulse control.

He slid his arm out from under you, muttering comforts in your ear about a shower when you stirred slightly. Thankfully, you settled against the pillows again without trouble.

He snatched the phone and teleported quickly to the bathroom.

Your passcode was easy to figure out. He watched you swipe it dozens of times already. When your screen lit up, and he could see the apps across the face, he wondered exactly what he’d thought he’d find.

Text messages were all boring work stuff, and your Facebook was nothing he hadn’t seen. Your camera roll was mostly pictures of food and the two of you together at the events he’d attended at your side, as well as pictures of the relief effort and, surprise, more boring work stuff.

Suddenly his eyes landed on the only app left. It looked like a “phone-cleaner” app meant to scan for viruses, but he knew that app. It was a secret vault app for sensitive materials (he had used it mostly for the porn he didn’t want Papyrus to know about) and if you had something to hide, it was in there.

Fuck. He’d been in here a while. You’d probably wake up soon, too. He hovered over the app for a second, debating whether he had the time to try.

Couldn’t stop himself.

Again, the pin code was easy enough. The app opened up like a flower, and he was faced with hundreds of pictures of…

...you and him.

He paused. He’d never seen these pictures. He didn’t even remember taking them. Not only that, but you looked much younger, maybe 21, 22. But he would have still been…

His breath hitched as he landed on one picture. You were so beautiful, blushing deeply as he planted a kiss on your cheek. He’d never seen himself so happy…not only that, but...

...behind the two of you was a sign.

A very familiar sign.

A sign he’d honestly hoped to never see again.

It read “Welcome to ~~Snowdin~~ HELL”.

* * *

He chose not to say anything.

For the time frame those pictures were taken in...they must have been taken in the fixed timeline, before the resets hit. Which means that he should remember that time clearly, instead of as if he was staring into a chasm of death and terrible puns replaying over and over. Problem was, he didn’t even remember it vaguely, like with resets.

All that aside, he’d broken the big, bad rule. He had no idea what you would do to him if you knew, or if you’d make him leave, or...that thought hurt, leaving. He can’t leave you, not now, not while he’s just finally...fuck, he was attached, okay?

As much as he burned to know, it was obvious that you had already lost him at least once. The look you gave him when you thought wasn’t looking, that sweet adoration...if that was any indication, you’d die if you lost him again.

And he wasn’t so sure he’d fare any better.

He tried to act normal, and he was fairly decent at it. He always was. It was definitely easier now that the two of you had finally realized you could be intimate. How long had it been since he’d moved in? Five months? Yeah, you both had a lot of time to make up for.

So whenever he felt like his facade was slipping, he’d simply get a little handsy, and then he’d forget about it, and you’d both be living in the moment.

And  _ fuck _ it was always a moment worth living for. Every inch of your body screamed his name, and every bone on his trembled at your touch. You knew all his weak spots, and he was always finding yours (personal favorite? He likes the way you squeal when he nips at your ribs.) and making you make the most satisfying noises. He’d never felt so  _ alive _ , so  _ passionate _ ...and it didn’t stop at the sex.

Everything about you was just so...endearing. He’d spent so much time wondering when the other shoe would drop that he forgot to notice all your little quirks and habits. Well, now that he had broken the rules and pushed the shoe down himself (metaphorically speaking) he was seeing them all over again.

He wanted to tell you how he felt. He needed you to know that it went beyond the contract. Beyond the clothes. Beyond the money. He needed you to know that he really wanted to be here. So on his way home from being fitted for a new tux, he stopped to buy a single red rose, and it was  _ almost _ as beautiful as you.

Due to the time of night, he expected you to be cooking dinner already, so he was making a beeline for the kitchen when his brother’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“How long do you plan to keep up this charade?” He was saying, voice almost a growl.

“Forever. I told you that already.” You responded, irritated. “Fuck, Paps, let it go!”

You sounded awfully familiar with him.

“No, I will not! He was happiest with  _ you _ . And now, he is happy again. I can’t believe I have to explain this to you in such plain terms. Despite my usual treatment of him, I do  _ love _ the little cretin. And because I do, I insist you give up this stupid fucking game.”

Wow. He could count on one hand the number of times Papyrus had said he loved him.

“You know I can’t.”

“What are you so afraid of? Don’t you love him?”

“...of course I do. Stop guilt-tripping me.”

You...you loved him? He was floored by the confession. He didn’t have time to be surprised, though, if he wanted to listen. He inched closer, peering around the doorjamb. Papyrus was hurriedly and angrily dicing tomatoes, but he only caught a second of it before the tall skeleton sighed heavily, burying the knife in the cutting board.

He swiftly turned on his heel, pulling you into a surprisingly delicate-looking embrace, bowing his skull to rest on the top of your head.

“I am sorry, pet. I know how hard this is for you, but I cannot change my stance. Sans’ happiness is more important than whatever powers you insist are hell bent on--”

“Thanks, Paps, but I’m telling you that I can't.  Believe me, it’s all that I want, too.” The sadness in your voice was only compacted by the way you leaned in to accept his embrace. Sans had never seen his brother be so gentle, least of all with a human.

He hesitated, watching you both for a moment as you stood in silent comfort, and then he plastered his smile on and stepped into the kitchen.

“hey, now, i don’t remember hugging bein’ an important part of the cooking process.”

Papyrus all but flung you away from him, causing you to stumble back against the counter with a surprised squeak.

“B-BROTHER! KEEP YOUR STRANGE HUMAN AND HER UNWANTED ADVANCES IN CHECK! REALLY, ARE YOU GOOD FOR  _ NOTHING? _ ”

“hey, her house, her rules, bro.” He shrugged as you slowly pushed yourself off the tile and straightened your blouse. He was at your side in two strides, producing the flower. “here, sweetheart. s’for you.”

“Oh, Sans, I’m supposed to be the one that spoils you!” You giggled, sweeping up for a hesitant kiss. He kissed you gently back, not wanting you to think he heard anything. Acting normal. He looked at your relieved face, and was silently begging for you to take him upstairs so he could show you how he felt. The nagging voice in the back of his head said he needed to ask questions, so many questions. Whatever was going on, Papyrus was clearly in on it, he needed to know, but...

He didn’t know why, but something in his soul was screaming “don’t screw it up this time”. 

This time. 

It always said “this time”. 

...But this was the first time.

...Wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confusion ahhhh


	8. Baby Blues: Uncle Edgelord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus babysits Mason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of [Baby Blues](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10666830/chapters/24600243). Gonna call it the Step-Skeletons series (:  
> Thanks to everyone who reacted so positively to the first Baby Blues one-shot (:

Papyrus was not very tolerant of humans to begin with. They were squishy and useless, and despite his brother’s penchant for their womenfolk, he had no interest in extended contact with them.

Unfortunately, ever since Sans began dating you, it seemed that was an impossible standard. Firstly, you came over a lot (though he went to you more often, thank the stars for that). Second, your little human spawn was...cute. As cute as humans get, he supposed. Mason, as his name appeared to be, had squishy rosy cheeks that begged to be poked, and huge blue eyes that always stared at him in wonder. Anything that looked at him like he was a God couldn’t be  _ that _ bad, he assured himself. 

And that was how, in spite of himself, Papyrus had agreed to babysit the little creature while the two of you went out to dinner.

So.

Here he was.

Holding the... _ thing, _ in the kitchen, at arms’ length, having a staring contest. Mason simply looked at him (Sans had mentioned it doesn’t talk yet. Shame. He’d love to teach it some choice words.) with that wide-eyed wonder that had landed him here.

“WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?”

The baby twitched at his loud voice, the empty look of wonder swiftly replaced with tears as it started wailing.  _ Oh God that noise make it stop make it stopppppp _

He swiftly laid the thing on the counter, pulling his phone out to ask Sans how to turn it off and--

Stopped. 

He...he didn’t need Sans for this! Sans had done this for him when he was just a babybones, and he’d been a child himself. The Great and Terrible Papyrus could surely handle it...right?

He turned slowly back towards the crying child. How did they handle this in those TV shows?

He reached out tentatively and grasped the little creature once again, bringing it to eye level despite the wailing.

“STOP CRYING!”

“UaaAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

“...Stop crying...please?”

More wailing. Panic started to surpass his bravado. What if he did something terribly wrong? What if he was slowly killing the thing and he had no idea? He might not like humans, but killing any creature's young is never a good thing.

He pulled his phone out and held it to his ear. Sans didn’t need to know if he used a lifeline somewhere else...right?

“ _ **Hello** **?**_ ” The meek voice of his human friend was always uplifting, even if he could only hear it through the magic in their phones because they were mute.

“Frisk!” He hissed.

“ _ **Papyrus? Wha...what’s that noise?**_ ” They asked, confusion obvious.

“YOU MUST...You must help me, Sans and his datemate have left her little spawn with me, and I can’t turn it off!”

“ _ **...Did you try holding him?**_ ”

“I am!”

“ _ **...how?**_ ”

“What do you mean, how? By his scruff, like any youngling!”

He heard an exasperated sigh, and then some noises and muffled voices, and then Frisk came back.

“ _ **I’ll be there in a minute. Do you have a safe place to put the baby?**_ ”

“The human provided me with a swing trap...thing.”

“ _ **Good. Put him there. I’ll be there soon.**_ ”

* * *

**_You can’t hold a baby by the scruff. You gotta hold him like this._ ** Frisk’s magic made it easy to understand them, even though they could barely sign while holding the thing. They demonstrated how one should cradle a human child, and Papyrus steamed quietly, frustrated to have to admit he didn’t know they needed their head supported like that.

“I...did not hurt the thing, did I?”

**_No, he’s fine_ ** _. _ Frisk smiled as the wailing waned, and the big blue eyes blinked and turned to stare at them.  **_Hello, little one! I gotta say, Sans did pick the cutest baby’s mama to date._ **

“I suppose he is endearing, in a way.”

**_Your turn!_ ** Frisk moved quicker than Papyrus expected, and before he knew it, his human friend had arranged him in the proper position, and he was holding the child. The baby looked up at him and…

...started wailing again.

Papyrus groaned.

“It doesn’t like me! Take it back!” He tried to push the infant back onto his friend, but they pushed his arms away.

**_You need to learn to soothe him! You’re his uncle now!_ **

Papyrus paused. He hadn’t exactly thought about it that way, but he supposed if Sans was serious about this girl (which he could tell he was) then that would make him an uncle, no question. Frisk’s smile brightened at the surprised hesitation on his face.

**_We'll start small. What’s his name?_ **

“...Mason.”

**_Try calling his name in a soft voice, and rocking him a little._ **

“Uhm...hello, tiny Mason. I am the GREAT AND TERRIBLE P--OH STARS, MAKE IT STOP WAILING!”

**_Stop yelling!_ **

“OKAY! Okay, fine...hello Mason, you useless human spawn. I am Papyrus, your Great and Terrible future uncle!” He said, somewhat quietly, puffing out his chest. The child quieted a little, but was still crying. He frowned. “You said that would work. Make the fucking thing stop!”

**_Keep trying!_ ** The teen gave him a look, crossing their arms as if to block him from giving the baby back.  **_And say nice things, maybe? And no swearing!_ **

He huffed, drawing the child close once more. He tried to think of something that could soothe him, something...anything…

Well. There was  _one_ thing.

 

“ _ Rest your weary bones, little hero… _

_ Close those sockets tight _

_ I’ll be here to watch over you _

_ So sleep in peace tonight...” _

 

The crying stopped as he finished singing the verse, and he was surprised himself at what had come over him. The little babe was staring up at him with a dazed expression, and he felt a smile etching across his skull, followed by overwhelming guilt. Frisk clapped, joy evident on their face.

**_That was perfect! Where’d you learn that?_ **

“Sans used to sing that to me when I was a babybones, and him a child. We had nothing, and yet he always stayed strong for me, and treated me like I was a great hero.” He cast his crimson eyelights down as the child wrapped his small hand around his gloved finger. The guilt must be evident in his face, because Frisk's smile fell. “And yet as we grew I repaid him with cruelty. I broke his tooth, called him worthless, and collared him like an animal. And for some reason he’d still sing it outside my door late at night, when he thought I was sleeping.”

**_It wasn’t your fault, Papyrus. That was the world you lived in down there._ ** Frisk leaned forward, laying a comforting hand on his wrist. The little thing was closing its eyes, as if to sleep. He furrowed his brow, squeezing the little hand gently.

“...So what’s my excuse now?”

* * *

Okay.

This was quite possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

Sans had hesitated turning on the light when you both had come back from your date, worried for a split second that the silence in the house meant something terrible. But now that he had flipped on the light in the doorway, he could see his brother sprawled across a blanket on the floor, Mason laying against his chest under a firm, protective hand. Wrapped in his other arm, he wasn’t surprised to find Frisk. He must have called the kid for help when the baby started crying.

“Oh, Sans, look at them,” you whispered, pressing into his side. “They did such a good job.”

“heh. ‘course they did, s’your kid and my little brother, not to mention the monster ambassador. they’re the best...n’they learned from the best.” Sans chuckled quietly, pulling you close for a kiss. He hummed contentedly against your mouth, before pulling away slightly. “y’know, they look pretty comfy. wanna stay the night?”

“Oh, uhm, I don’t think I’m ready for…” You cast your gaze downwards, embarrassment marking your cheeks, but his hand tipped your our head back up.

“c’mon, who ya think you’re talkin’ to, sweetheart? no funny business, i just wanna hold you. hm?”

Your smile was worth a million gold coins.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

“atta girl. i’ll meet you up there, just gotta get some blankets on these snoozers.” You cast him a worried glance. “don’t worry, paps sleeps full on vampire style. he won’t move even a centimeter all night. mason’s safe with him...alright, alright, i’ll leave a baby monitor, too. now, go?”

He patted your butt playfully as you smiled and moved away, gently stepping around them. As soon as your sweet ass disappeared behind his bedroom door, his eyes returned to the sight below him. He flicked his hand, magic grasping a blanket from the couch to lay across them. Frisk stirred, blearily opening one eye.

“shit, sorry kid, just a blanket. you’re good.” He said, kneeling down to stroke their hair. They sighed bringing their hands up to tiredly sign.

_**How was your** **date?**_

"smokin', as usual. you guys sure did a bang-up job yerself."

The kid smiled, and then something seemed to come to mind, because they looked kind of sad as they signed the next part.

**_You know Papyrus is sorry for how he treated you underground...right?_ **

“of course, kid. why?”

**_He thinks he’s beyond forgiveness. He looked at the baby like he was his chance for redemption._ **

Sans hesitated as he drew the blanket further up his brother’s form. “...no kiddin’.”

Frisk nodded. ** _He_** ** _sang a lullaby you used to sing for him. It was beautiful._**

“heh...that old thing? s’alright, i guess. go back to sleep, kid.”

They smiled at him, laying their head back in the crook of Papyrus’ neck. Sans stared at them for a few moments, and then reached up to rub his brother’s skull gently, trailing down to rub Mason’s back next.

From the room, you peeked around the door. You could make out the soft melody of the lullaby, and you sighed, thinking about how sweet he was and how lucky you were.

When Mason was born, and the two of you were alone, you’d been so angry, so frustrated. You’d promised yourself you’d never fall for anyone’s tricks ever again. Though when you’d met Sans, you’d struggled to keep that promise.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love, but here you were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CUTE SWEET FLUFF  
> UNCLE PAPS  
> AHHHHH


	9. Cheater: Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after Papyrus marks you, Sans loses his temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Cheater: Papyrus Ending

_ “well...hello, sweetheart. what’s a pretty young thing like you doin’ out at this time of night?” _

_ “Just waiting for the bus.” _

_ “not worried about big bad monsters?” _

_ “I’m not afraid of monsters. Are you afraid of humans?” _

_ “mmm...not when they got legs like you. name’s sans. sans the skeleton. what’s yours?” _

 

“ **_fuck!_ ** ”

_ Crash! _

Sans grunted as he tore his pictures off the wall, as he threw the dresser down and kicked it. He growled loudly as he tore apart the room, trying desperately to make it look completely different than when it had been yours to share not hours ago.

_ Stupid _ .

He smashed his hand through the closet door with another snarl. He knew you could hear him wrecking the room from where you were, probably laying in his brother’s bed, probably _fucking_ him. He _wanted_ you to hear.

_ Idiot _ .

He wanted you to think of him when you looked at his brother, he wanted you to feel his pain as you tried to receive pleasure in the arms of another.

_ Your fault. _

He clawed at the fire building in his socket, the magic welling up, threatening to pool over. He let out a strangled cry as his knees hit the carpet and finally, finally, he let them come. The tears were scalding his skull as they dripped down, and he clutched his head in agony, his soul threatening to break.

“m-my fault,” he whimpered. If he hadn’t been so stupid...if he hadn’t listened to all those whispers, if he’d just asked you about it...if he hadn’t assumed his angel would cheat on him… “idiot. idiot.  _ idiot _ .”

You’d never given him a reason to think you’d be unfaithful. Even the hundreds of times when you should have left, should have ran like the wind, should have turned your back on his mess, you had stayed with him, stood by him. You’d done nothing but treat him like he was a king, and he...he…

He threw it all in the dust over assumptions. Fuck, he didn’t even remember the tramp’s name, or even what she felt like. He’d been numb the entire experience, just feeling like it was all a bad dream. He’d finally woken up when he watched his brother mark you, and watched you melt underneath his fingertips. He’d never allowed Papyrus to touch you so familiarly, or to mark you, not even during those times he’d let him fuck you for his own amusement. He used to enjoy seeing your pleasured face as his brother rocked against you, but now...now just the thought of it brought forth new waves of anger.

He’ll kill him.

It would be so easy. He’d watched the kid do it a thousand times in the genocide run...it...he’d never see it coming…

No.

His hands grasped the carpet, teeth grinding. He couldn’t do that. He could never do that, as much as he wanted to. And it would only drive you away. The challenge had been set, that meant you must love Papyrus as well…

Wait. The challenge.

His sockets snapped open, a wicked grin spreading across his skull. His brother’s mark hadn’t replaced his, it had only challenged it! He remembers seeing them both there, and his showed no sign of fading. That only meant one thing.

You still love him, too.

There was a loud knock on the door.

“SANS! STOP ALL THIS RACKET AND OPEN UP!”

He let the door swing open, and he could hear his brother tutting at him as he surveyed the mess.

“what’s wrong, boss, ya done fuckin’ my girl already? man, you didn’t last long.” He seethed.

“I AM NOT AN ANIMAL. I DIDN’T FUCK HER. SHE WENT TO SLEEP IN THE GUEST ROOM DOWNSTAIRS.” He scoffed. “IS THIS YOUR SOLUTION? SENSELESS DESTRUCTION? PATHETIC. THIS IS HOW YOU DEAL WITH THE LOSS OF YOUR HUMAN?”

“i didn't lose her! she...she still loves me. i saw my mark, it was still strong.”

Another scoff. “OF COURSE SHE DOES, YOU IMBECILE. UNTIL A FEW HOURS AGO YOU WERE A HAPPY COUPLE...FUNNY HOW THINGS CHANGE.”

Sans’ hand came up to clutch the front of his shirt, where his soul was. Things do change...but he could get you back, he knew it. He had an advantage over his brother...you had history with him. He turned to face his brother, magic eye flaring with power.

“i’ll get her back, an’ when i do, you’ll never fucking touch her again.” He snarled. His brother, leaning against the doorjamb, just gave him an amused smirk.

“ENJOY YOUR DELUSIONS. SHE’LL BE MINE BEFORE YOU CAN BLINK.”

“ ** _no._** **_i  r e f u s e._** " He stood, staring his brother straight in the sockets. “you, you've always gotten _everything_. i fucking _made sure of it_. i’ve cast aside myself, my _entire_ life, to make sure _you_ made it, to make sure _you_ were powerful, that _you_ got everything you _ever_ fucking wanted. but _not this time_. i am not giving her up to you, not in this world, or the next. _**i won’t roll over anymore**_.”

His hands were shaking, his phalanges digging into the bone of his palms. If his brother was surprised at his outburst, he didn’t show it for more than a twitch of his teeth.

“...WE SHALL SEE.”

* * *

You listened to the crashing of Sans destroying your room, hands bunching the fabric of the sheets of the guest bed. You could hear him sobbing, breaking down, the thump of his knees hitting the floor directly above you. Your soul ached, your mark ached. You were kind of glad you hadn’t bonded with him, because your resolve would be very weak if you could expressly feel his pain.

Aside from soul ache, you also ached physically, both from fighting Sans’ grasp earlier and from the fresh bite wound Papyrus had left on your shoulder.

Oh, God, now they’re arguing. You can hear the tone of their voices through the ceiling. You’ve never heard Sans use that tone on Papyrus before, and you instantly felt guilty. If you weren’t so weak, you could have left, and they would have healed together, instead of fighting against each other. But no, you had to stay and be selfish, driving them apart.

Oh, God, what if they start fighting for real? Sans’ HP is so low he’d never survive a hit from Papyrus, and Sans is so fast he’d have no problem hitting Papyrus with one of his more powerful attacks. You buried your face in your bruised hands with a moan. If one of them killed the other it would literally be all your fault! And you know them, and they would never forgive themselves until they wasted away. That’s what they were made of: genuine affection masked by a layer of false indifference.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but nothing came out. You were just too tired, too empty. Earlier this evening you’d been humming on your way home, heart and soul full of Sans’ love.

Now...well, now you would be lucky to feel anything but self-pity and the twisting, familiar feeling of hating yourself.

You let one hand slide off to fall against the pillows, and the other stayed gently draped across your face. Maybe if you sleep...maybe you’ll feel better.

The yelling upstairs stopped, and you could hear something hit the door hard as Papyrus slammed it, stomping off towards his room. You sighed, closing your eyes and trying to will yourself to sleep.

The silence was deafening. You were so used to the soft whistle of air flowing through Sans’ bones as he breathed, you couldn’t sleep like this. You tossed and turned for about an hour, finally settling on your side facing the wall.

It wasn’t a second too soon, as it happened, because as soon as you closed your eyes you felt the familiar static of Sans’ magic, and heard his feet touch the ground lightly. You pretended to be asleep, as that was probably what he expected when he’d come to check on you, and you listened to see if he would do anything.

There was a quiet sigh, followed by a sniffle. Oh, God, is he crying? Papyrus used to say that he was a huge crybaby when they lived Underground, but you’d never really believed it. But the masterful way that he controlled his breathing, so you could barely tell that tears were choking him...you knew it was true. There was a time when his hope had reached such a low point that he couldn't help his own weakness...as you remember, he’d said something to that effect when you were first dating, and also that he refused to be weak again now that he could feel the sun on his bones.

But here he was, letting himself be weak. It was enough to make your heart hurt. You felt his phalanges brush your hair back lightly, and resisted the urge to flinch away from him. You knew he needed you, and you honestly needed him...no! Stay strong, you urged yourself.

“i won’t let you slip through my fingers, sweetheart,” he said, his voice wavering. “i’ll make it all up to you. my cowardice, my weakness, my...infidelity. i’ll do whatever it takes to fix my mistakes, fuck...i love you so much, i..i...f-fuck...i’m s-sorry. i’m so sorry…”

After a moment of hesitation, his hand leaves your hair, you feel the static, and he’s gone. You roll over to check, and notice he’s left your suitcase. It sits open on the dresser, and you can see that he’s packed it full for you.

An invitation to take your time to sort things out? Maybe.

Or maybe a reminder of the man you fell in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little thing. I thought it was important to show the dichotomy between Paps and Sans over the girl, and a little bit more of her struggle.


	10. Bitty Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monsters aren't so fearsome on the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist the bitty monsters idea.

Monsters were not as fearsome on the surface as they had hoped.

Or, more accurately, they couldn’t be.

Long story short, they were all tiny. Underground, magic leylines had been plentiful and close to home, meaning monsters needed less effort to support their magical bodies. Unfortunately, they had not planned for the leylines to be scarce on the surface, meaning almost all of them took tiny forms due to their weak magic-gathering skills.

Sure, they could still be bigger if they needed to, but it only lasted a short while before they returned to their smaller size.

This was the start of the Bitty Boom. Monsters learned very quickly that they couldn’t support themselves up on the surface, and so began the idea of finding human families to help care for them. They signed their papers, and they waited for someone to come along that likes them. Basically, glorified pets.

Naturally, none of this sat well with Papyrus. He hated being so tiny and weak, and he hated even more the thought that he needed a human’s help to survive. He wanted to go back underground, but he couldn’t do that to Sans, who had a panic attack whenever anybody even suggested the idea.

At least the Bitty salesperson was nice. She took good care of them while they waited for a family. She even strongly suggested to anyone interested in either of them that they also get the other, as they are brothers who would miss each other terribly upon separation...unfortunately this deterred most people from being interested.

Most people.

The lady who finally bought Papyrus simply chose to ignore the suggestion, and despite his snarls and struggles, he had to watch the shop disappear into the distance, and consequently, his brother.

“UNHAND ME, WENCH!” He shrieked, trying to push her hands away as she pulled at his clothes.

“Hold still, little guy! I’m going to make you so cuuuuuute! Ooh, y/n will just eat you right up!”

“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?” He snapped as he tried to pull off the giant plastic buttons on the new shirt she had forced on him. Her fat hands came down once more to tie a bow around his neck, which he begrudgingly didn’t struggle against. He didn’t want to snap his neck, after all.

“Watch that attitude, little one!”

“NO.” He growled defiantly. The woman sighed as she picked him up again.

“Yes, she’ll simply love you.”

As fate would have it, he was a gift for the lady’s neice.

You.

You seemed just as surprised to receive a Bitty Monster as he was to be given. As your hands tentatively cupped his body, you gave him a bewildered stare that he could only return as you stuttered a forced thank you to your aunt.

The loud woman didn’t stay long after that, thank the stars, but that then left you alone with him.

Your hand moved, and he hissed, recoiling. You pulled your fingers back.

“S-sorry! Just...trying to take this stupid bow off. But if you like it…”

He paused, glaring at you incredulously. Then he finally dropped his guard and leaned over so you could do as promised. With the bow gone, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders as he ripped the stupid huge buttons off his shirt, flinging the whole thing off his body quickly with a grumble.

“Not your style, huh?” You asked, amusement in your voice. He huffed, not making eye contact as he folded his bony arms over his chest. “Well, here, then.”

You reached over with your free hand and pulled out a drawer, depositing him in it shortly after. It was bursting with different sized doll clothes in a variety of colors.

“YES, BECAUSE THIS ISN’T CREEPY AT ALL,” he scoffed at you, but began to pick through it nonetheless.

“I make doll clothes and accessories for a living. I have lots of stuff. Whatever doesn’t sell or only has one copy left goes in here.” You explained, leaning against the desk the drawer belonged to as he searched. “Suppose that’s why my aunt thought I’d want a Bitty.”

“SHE SHOULD HAVE CONSIDERED IF THE BITTY WANTED YOU,” he spat, pulling a black tank top out of the pile and pulling it over his head. A little snug, but he liked it. “I DON’T NEED A HUMAN. I AM A GREATLY FEARED MONSTER IN THE UNDERGROUND! I’M SEVEN FEET TALL DOWN THERE!”

You giggled at his outburst, and he turned a little red. He hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud, it was just...well...frustrating.

“What’s your name, little friend?” You asked gently, holding your hand out to help him out of the drawer. He clung to your thumb and you moved up to set him on the counter.

“...PAPYRUS. THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS.”

“Well, Mr. Great and Terrible Papyrus, I’m y/n. I guess I’m your human, now, so I’ll try my best to protect and care for you, okay?”

You offered your index finger and he hesitantly took it to shake.

What a strange human you were.

* * *

You really did your best. He supposed he was lucky your expertise was in doll-sized things, as you converted an entire walk-in closet into a Bitty-sized house for him. You really pulled out all the stops, even making him a small kitchen where he could cook for himself if you weren’t home. A small fridge designed as a novelty to keep a single soda can cold soon held whatever ingredients he needed for fresh meals, as did the little cupboards. You took every suggestion he made into account, and before long, he was starting to feel almost content.

Except he wasn’t.

Not without Sans.

After the first week, you began to notice that Papyrus didn’t get up as quickly or as early as before. He started to avoid meals, choosing instead to practice his magic in the little training area you’d built. Slowly, training became his day and night, only pausing to collapse and sleep for a few hours, and then do it all again. It worried you.

One day you could see that his movements were slow, almost forced. It’d been two weeks since you’d met, but he was completely different.  Whereas the first few days yielded a nasty attitude and even nastier bite marks, now he seemed almost glassy-eyed, as if he didn’t care if you were there or not.

You dropped the laundry basket immediately when you saw him fall to his knees, huffing and puffing, and rushed over to gingerly pick him up.

He offered no resistance as you wiped the sweat from his skull with the pad of your thumb, cradling him as he breathed heavily in your hands.

“Oh, Papyrus...you’re working too hard. Why won’t you eat or sleep?”

“None..of your concern…” He mumbled weakly, struggling to sit up.

“No, you’re burning up. You need a bath...let’s go.”

He let out a surprised yelp as you gingerly closed your hand around him, and he clung to your thumb again. You moved towards the bathroom, and he weakly protested, but fell silent when he realized you weren’t changing your mind.

He was too weak to argue anyway, and instead he lay his skull on your thumb as you walked. He thought about Sans...maybe if he was strong enough, he could go see him. He’d been training, practicing maintaining his proper size, but it never lasted more than an hour. Definitely not enough to go save him.

He felt you lower him onto a folded washcloth, and snuggled into the fabric gratefully as he listened to you run the sink water. You really had been good to him, so he felt bad making you worry. You were a kind human. Your gentle touch made him shiver as you peeled off his shirt.

“Now, in.” You said firmly, and he obeyed, shimmying his pants off as you looked away. The water was warm and full of bubbles, and it met to about his waist. You’d provided a little chair, so he sat, letting the water soak up to his ribs. You didn’t leave, probably worried he would pass out in there, and he was secretly grateful.

“I’m not usually like this,” he snapped, trying to cover up his weakness. “I was a very fearsome skeleton in the underground!”

“I know,” you cooed soothingly, rubbing soap onto a q-tip so he had a little cleaning device. He didn’t really want to clean, though, so you ended up taking it back and swirling it over his bones yourself. He gasped, grabbing the q-tip with newfound energy, a dark orange blush dominating his skull.

“WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He demanded, yanking it from your hands.

“Taking care of you, like I said I would! Give it.” You held out your hand and he hesitated, but gave it back. His blush brightened as your fingers brushed his bones, along with the q-tip. He was squeezing his sockets shut, his body rigid, making odd squeaks, and finally you realized that this must be turning him on.

You wondered briefly how that even worked with a skeleton, and what he was like when he was at his proper size. You knew they were bigger underground, closer to the earth’s magic.

“H-HUMAN...” He gasped, and you realized that in your deep contemplation you had dipped your pinky below his ribcage to clean the inside. He was panting, a nervous smile etched across his face, tiny hands grasping at the sides of your finger.

“Oh! S-sorry!” You withdrew your hand like he’d bitten you, and he slumped back into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling now, almost as if he hadn’t wanted you to stop. “Anyway, all clean! Here’s a washcloth, I’ll go get your pajamas.”

You scurried off, and he sighed in relief, groaning as his magic pooled in his pelvis. He didn’t want to form a phallus, in case you came back, but it was killing him to just leave it there. And you! Such scandalous touching! He could feel your fingers on his bones still, the tingle of his ribs.

Soon you returned with his pajamas, and he migrated his newly cleaned and clothed body back into your hands. He was starting to get used to the idea of you taking care of him, and he still felt like ground beef from when he had collapsed, so he snuggled into the meat of your palm as you walked him towards the closet.

Or...not.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” He asked in confusion as you carried him away.

“I want you to sleep, and I need to sleep, so the best way to keep track of your sleep is to have you sleep with me!” You said, holding him close to your body she you could plop into your bed.

He huffed, flushing again as you pressed him to your collarbone. The pressure felt nice, the closest thing to a real hug as he had received in a while. He let out a little disgruntled sigh, hoping he was quiet enough for you not to notice.

You did.

“Hey...Are you unhappy with me? Like, here? Would you rather live with someone else, like in a house?” You asked. “I mean...I’ve been trying, but...am I not taking care of you?”

What does he even say to that?!

“N-NO! I...YOU ARE...QUITE SUFFICIENT. YOUR HOME IS MOST WELCOMING...BUT…” He trailed off, pressing his skull against your skin, your heartbeat pounding rhythmically in his head.

“But?”

“I...IT’S MY BROTHER. WE'VE NEVER BEEN APART THIS LONG...A-AND IT’S NOT BECAUSE I REALLY MISS HIM OR ANYTHING, I-IT’S BECAUSE THAT CLOD ALWAYS FINDS TROUBLE WHEREVER HE IS AND HE IS HOPELESS WITHOUT ME! TRULY A DISASTER WITHOUT MY SUPERVISION. I...WORRY.”

“Oh no...you have a brother somewhere? God, I can’t believe my stupid aunt would...nevermind. I _can_ believe she’d do that.” You sighed, bringing him to rest on the pillow so you could meet his eyes. “Look...I understand. But not eating and not sleeping isn’t going to help...right?

“I….SUPPOSE NOT.” He laid his head down on the silky pillowcase, avoiding your gaze. He just felt too weak to argue like he normally would have.

“And, for that matter...don’t you think your brother would like it if you were healthy and happy without him, rather than miserable and sick thinking about him?”

Sans _would_ like that better. Sans would probably rather he forget about him at all. You brought a single finger up, tapping gently on his sternum. He sighed, clinging to the finger as sleepiness suddenly overwhelmed him.

“It’s okay to take care of yourself first, Papyrus.” Your lips pressed against his skull gently, and he was asleep.

* * *

“Please cheer up, Sans,” the salesperson pleaded, petting his back as he laid curled up in the pillows. The other monsters had already gone out to the shop display area to train and play and greet customers.

Not Sans. He just wanted to die.

She gave up when she heard the jingle of a customer, whispering encouraging words as she slipped out.

Sans drew the fabric of the blanket closer to his skull, rubbing at his sockets, trying to erase the image of his brother disappearing out the door. On one hand, he was happy. His brother would be cared for, and he didn’t need to worry. On the other, they’d never been apart this long before, and it _hurt_. It was starting to feel like those genocide runs where he had been forced to live without him, to be alone with his own thoughts. He sniffled, genuinely surprised he had any tears left.

“Oh, ohhhh….don’t cry, little buddy…” The voice didn’t belong to the salesperson, but someone else. It was soothing, comforting...a hand gingerly picked him up and…

_He smelled his brother’s scent._

His eyes snapped open, red tears marking his face as he looked up at the human bringing him up from the pillows and into cupped palms. You smelled like Papyrus, his scent was all over you. He shakily reached out, placing his hands on your thumb to steady himself. Your other thumb came up to wipe at his tears, making him squeak. You smiled, and from the salesperson’s chatter in the background, he deduced you were Papyrus’ owner.

“C’mon, little man.” you cooed, bringing your hands to your chest to hug him softly. “Your brother misses you. Wouldn’t you like to come home with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a part 2 at some point, obviously.


	11. Cheater: Runaway Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans met a girl two years ago at a bus stop...wearing a white dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This goes with my Cheater Storyline!  
> JellyBelly made an adorable cover for Cheater [here!](https://official-jellybellyrulez-acc.tumblr.com/post/161689768063/a-cover-for-mistresskittenmain-s-fanfic-cheater)  
> Part 1--Cheater (did not end the way the story goes)-->Ch. 1  
> Part 2--Cheater (Papyrus ending)-->Ch. 2  
> Part 3--Cheater: Aftermath--> Ch. 9  
> Part 4--YOU ARE HERE!

Sans grumbled to himself as he hustled down the street, sharply avoiding bumping shoulders with the few humans who were out in the rain.

Papyrus and him had been on better terms since the Ascension, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still fight. His hope had increased a little since he could feel the sun on his bones now, and his work ethic had increased, which he’d have thought his brother would be happy about...but instead it had turned into a series of arguments where Papyrus now thought he was pushing himself too hard, and that he might work himself to dust.

“try to tell me i ain’t tough enough, pft,” he growled, slamming his shoulder hard into the poor man stupid enough to wander into him. The man had the sense to sputter an apology and skittered away.

He watched the man go, and with a crack of lightning and a boom of thunder, the rain turned into a torrential downpour. He sighed, angling his face to the sky and letting the raindrops fall on his skull, to remind him why he’s here. The surface. He stared unfocused across the street, thinking about how he’d survived almost 20 years underground just to get up here and still feel trapped.

After a moment, he realized he was staring at a very strange sight.

It was...almost ethereal, the way you appeared, standing in the pouring rain wearing a long white ballgown. Your hair was half undone, makeup running down your face in thick lines of black and purple as you did the same thing he was doing: letting the rain wash over your cheeks, as if reminding yourself why you’re here.

You looked like an omen of death, of heaven. You looked like you were something only he could see, as if you were here to claim his soul.

He could hear the voices of men shouting, and the illusion was broken as your face changed. You looked frantically around, caught his eye, and then you picked up your dress, weighed down by water, and sloshed across the street towards him.

“Don’t tell them I’m here!” You hissed as you swept past him, crouching behind the bus stop he was standing near, quickly trying to gather the wet fabric behind the cover.

Confused, he looked back to see three men in suits turn the corner, calling what he assumed was your name. Suddenly his limited knowledge of humans kicked in and he realized what was happening.

That was a wedding dress you were wearing, and one of those guys must be your groom. He frowned, confused. He knew that humans were different, but he still thought that they had to love each other before they got married. So why were you crouched behind a bus stop, counting on a monster to be quiet, instead of blushing at the altar?

He let out a sharp whistle, and when the guys looked over at him, he gestured in the opposite direction, and off they went. As their footsteps echoed into the distance, he heard you sigh.

“they’re gone,” he said, when the last coattails turned the corner out of sight.

“...Thanks.” You had curled into yourself, knees to forehead and arms wrapped around, voice muffled by the wet fabric.

He wanted to leave, but...well, he was the curious sort. And you were a curious thing.

“well...hello, sweetheart. what’s a pretty young thing like you doin’ out here at this time of night?”

You laughed, a sort of manic giggle. “Just waiting for the bus.”

“what, ain’t worried about big, bad monsters?”

You stiffened, but he could tell it wasn’t out of fear. “I’m not afraid of monsters. Are you afraid of humans?”

“heh. not when they got legs like yours. name’s sans. sans the skeleton. what’s yours?”

You looked up at him as if surprised, probably wondering how in the world he could know what your legs looked like with all this puffy white fabric obscuring them. “My...my name?”

“yeah. can’t just call ya ‘drowned rat’, ya know?”

“O-oh. I’m...y/n.”

He held out a hand to help you up, and you hesitantly took it. He pulled you to your feet, admiring your face as he did so. Despite the smeared makeup and the water, he could see you had good bone structure. He wanted to see you smile, he had to know what that looked like.

“you look like you could use a drink. i’m buyin’.”

* * *

And so you found yourself toweling off your makeup, sitting in a monster bar in a waterlogged wedding dress, with a skeleton.

The bartender, who seemed to be living purple flames, seemed none too amused that Sans had brought an extremely wet human into his establishment, and you couldn’t blame him. You were probably able to put him out  in seconds with the amount of water you were retaining.

But the weirdest thing wasn’t that he brought you here, or the bartender, or even the fact that you were surrounded by monsters.

“You’re not gonna ask about the getup?” You said finally, after watching him drink mustard silently for a good ten minutes.

“figured it was personal.” He said with a shrug. “but since you offered...what’s with the runaway bride routine?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to rub the feeling of lipstick off. How would you answer that? You left your groom at the altar, that much was obvious, but how much else can you say without getting way too close to this stranger?

“look, you don’t have to tell me. all’s i know is, when someone gets married, ain’t they supposed to stay at the church? y’know, so they can exchange their vows or whatever with the person they love?”

“I don’t love him,” you snapped, before you could stop yourself. He looked genuinely surprised at your outburst, mustard bottle paused halfway to his mouth. You sighed, finally taking the drink he’d ordered you. “We were getting married for the money. He needed a wife to inherit his family’s company because his grandpa is old-school like that and insisted. I needed the money to pay for college, so I thought what the hell do I have to lose, right?”

“hmf...freedom, maybe?” He mused, grin returning to his face. A little too dead-on for your taste. “sounds like a sweet setup, so what happened?”

“What didn’t?” You laughed. “Firstly, his mom was doing my hair this afternoon and started chattering away about how she can’t wait for grandkids, which I had not signed up for, like, at all. Then she mentioned that it needed to happen soon, because he can’t inherit the company without kids, and even joked about getting knocked up tonight!”

You slammed your glass down a little too hard, and the bartender crackled angrily at you. You couldn’t understand him but apparently Sans did.

“hey, woah, give ‘er a break, grillbz. jus’ look at her.” The fire elemental glared at you, then with another crackle, he stalked away to serve a dog monster at the other end of the bar. “go on, toots. what else?”

You tipped your drink back, letting it slide down your throat without hesitation. You drained the glass in seconds, and he gave a low whistle, signaling for a refill.

“So then she left, and I’m just staring at myself in the mirror. I’ve got like 11 pounds of fucking makeup on my face, these stupid hair extensions--” You made a face as you grasped a chunk of your hair, pulling it out to reveal it was a clip-in. “--and this fat princess dress I never asked for. So I’m staring at myself, thinking ‘who the fuck I'm looking at’, and wondering if I can get away with slipping into my own bed and watching Netflix tonight. Then I realized--oh, thanks.”

You accepted the second drink as the bartender all but threw it at you, popping and crackling and Sans.

“don’t worry, s’on me...yeah, i’m good for it...jeez, fine, have it up front, then.” He tossed a few bills on the counter and the elemental cracked a smile, snatching the money up. “sorry. i’m listening.”

You nodded and sipped your drink, slower this time. The liquor was getting to you fast, hence the verbal diarrhea you were spewing all over this strange monster.

“So, anyway, I realized that the idea of binge-watching Cupcake Wars on Netflix in my own bed turned me on more than my potential husband.”

“yikes.”

“You’re tellin’ me. I can put up with a lot of shit for the money and the chance to go to college, but being expected to lie there and let some guy I'm not even attracted to rail me? No thanks.” You tipped back the last of your second drink and pushed the glass away, delighted to see it refilled.

“hey, slow down or you won’t finish your story,” he chuckled, leaning his elbows up on the bar.

“Har de har. Anyway, so I went to tell him that I didn’t know if this could work, and when I walked in, I caught him plowing the maid of honor.”

“fuck, man.”

“Yeah, and it was his brother’s wife, too.”

“double fuck.”

“Yeah. Anywho, so they're fuckin’, and I'm pissed, and I call out his bullshit and I’m threatening to tell the whole guest list what I just witnessed, and then--” You swept your hand in front of you to illustrate. “--the motherfucker backhands me!”

He suddenly goes rigid, staring at you, one of his eyelights flickering as the grin he’d been wearing this whole time began to fade into a grimace.

“ _ And then _ he starts fuckin’ shouting at me, saying women should be seen, not heard, and that he’ll fuck anyone he wants to because it’s his money and I’m just a means to an end.” You pretended to gag, sticking your tongue out and making a face.

“...so then you ran?” He asked through gritted teeth.

You laughed. “Ha! Nope. Then I snapped a picture of him yelling and pantless, with his brother’s wife in the background half-naked, and I used the Bluetooth feature to send it to the big screen in the ceremony hall where we were supposed to play our engagement video later. His entire family saw his tiny penis and that slut’s tits.” You shot a smile at him. “...and  _ then _ I ran.”

His anger was replaced by shock, and then genuine amusement as he chuckled, then started to laugh.

“h-holy shit, no wonder you didn’t want them to catch you. you’re a fuckin’ riot, you know that?” He managed to stop laughing long enough to knock back his mustard, and then he ordered a real drink. He held his glass up to you. “a toast to asshats gettin’ what they deserve.”

You’ll toast to that. You clicked glasses and he knocked his back fast, grimacing for a slight second as his phone buzzed on the table.

"...girlfriend?" you asked, a little defeated.

"heh. no. just my brother. we're not agrteein' right now. he thinks i needta take it easy and not work so hard." He waved it off, like it wasn't important, then pocketed the phone without replying. "hey, he got what he wanted. i'm takin' it easy here with you."

You observed him for a moment. It was incredible, really. He was so expressive despite being made of bone, that for a while there you’d forgotten he was a monster. If he had flesh and skin, he would probably be stocky, with a strong chin. Definitely your type. Probably your type anyway, if you’re being honest.

“whaddya call it when you accidentally drop your gun in the lake?” He asked suddenly. You shook your head. “heh. a shotgun  _ wetting _ .”

You laughed, and he pulled you onto the dance floor. 

You drank more, he drank more, and at some point you found yourself pressed against him stumbling out of the bar into an alley so he could pin you against the wall, kissing you feverishly. His breath was hot as it mingled with yours, his tongue electric as the magic popped and fizzled in your mouth. You hadn’t been this turned on in a long time, you hadn’t been this  _ happy _ in a long time. As he trailed his teeth along your neck, hands grazing your waist, then pulling you in...as he muttered drunken confessions into your ear...as you let him pick you up, let him rip the soaked fabric of your wedding gown away...as he held you close, hours later, in the dark of his room...

You hoped he’d never let you go.

* * *

Your hands brushed against the fabric of the dress. It still hung here in the downstairs closet, where you’d put it two years ago. After last night…

You touched the bite mark on your neck that Papyrus had left when he’d marked you. The morning light illuminated the tattered gown, once a monument to the truest love you’d ever received...now only a reminder of betrayal.

You moved your hand to feel the torn edge of the skirt, remembering your laughter as he tore it off that night, the heat of his embrace, and how with every single touch he saved you, over and over... Then you thought about how he’d looked with that blonde girl riding him, his shell-shocked face, his anger...the way he’d cried by your side last night, unaware that you could hear him.

Logically, you knew you shouldn’t give him this chance. You knew he didn’t deserve it, that any smart person would tell him to shove it, and probably Papyrus, too…

But you knew he loved you. The ache in your soul was mirrored in his, there’s no doubt about that. If you walked away, he’d wither and die...so would you.  He had a lot of work in front of him, but that didn’t mean he should give up.

You pushed the dress aside, pulling out a black dress with lace sleeves. Yes...you’d let him try...but right now…

“ARE YOU READY YET, HUMAN?”

You have a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this runaway bride thing, it was perfect, so I just worked it into what we already knew for this story.


	12. Fear the Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red tries to collect one last soul as a favor to Reaper!Sans. Problem is, he can't bring himself to let you die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, I am so sorry for this. I'm sorry. It's so angsty.  
> TW: death, angst, etc.

Sans grunted in annoyance as he dragged the soul behind him, ignoring his protests.

“P-please! I promise I’ll start exercising, and eating better! I just want to watch my daughter grow up.”

“tell it to the boss, jack. shoulda stopped about 800 hamburgers ago.” He snapped, tossing the man down at Grim’s feet. “there. 200 souls. debts’ paid, an’ i don’t have to answer to you anymore.”

Grim looked over his chart with a frown.

“sorry, buddy, but that’s only 199,” he drawled, showing him the clipboard. Sans snatched it, glowering at him, and looked it over...sure enough, one soul remained unchecked at the very bottom of the list. Some 20-year-old girl with cancer.

“oh, come on, she’s barely an adult and you’re gonna take her now?” He tapped the clipboard for emphasis. Grim shrugged, his grin fixed as he pulled his hood on, grabbing the man’s soul by the collar.

“hey, i don’t sow the seeds. i just reap ‘em.” He tucked his clipboard under his arm and waved his hand. Everything around him started to melt away, replaced by a cold, white hospital. Sans sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. He knew where to go, it was the same thing every time: a feeling would lead him towards death.

He just...wasn’t expecting you to be waiting for him.

When he entered the room, you were sitting up in bed, hands clasped in your lap. You looked over at him, unsurprised, and he looked back at you, obviously shocked.

“Are you here for me?” You asked quietly. He could tell that before the chemo you had been a sight to see...he still found you ethereally beautiful, a spark of life in your eyes that seemed to defy him.

“uh...yeah. sorry.”

You shrugged weakly. “Just doing your job. Now?”

“...i’m early. didn’t think you’d be waiting.”

“Come sit, then?”

For some reason, he did, sinking into the side of the bed. You seemed alright with silence, though you looked melancholy. He looked at the bedside table, crowded with cards, pictures and flowers. A picture of you and some friends stood out...he was right, you were goddamn gorgeous. Still were.

“any regrets?” He asked, taking the picture for a closer look.

“Never been kissed.” You responded immediately. He chuckled, disbelieving. “I’m serious.”

“yeah, right, a beautiful girl like you? you’re messin’ with me.”

“Not as pretty without hair.”

He looked back at you, his face blank. You wondered briefly if this was  _ the _ reaper, because if it was, he was certainly interesting. Though he was a skeleton, his chest rose and fell with soft breaths, his sockets had crimson specks of light, and he was able to express emotion with his face. You found yourself staring as he furrowed his brow in thought. He sighed and stood, shrugging off his robe and throwing it on the chair next to the bed. Underneath was a red turtleneck and a...collar? Well, they don’t kid around when they call death a mistress. He kneeled on the bed, leaning over so that his hands were planted on the wall on either side of your face.

“What are you--”

“do ya wanna die with that regret? cause i can help with that one.” He asked, a grin forming on his face.

“...won’t your kiss kill me?”

“not if you do it right.”

And he kissed you softly, and you sighed...a kiss was better than you’d imagined, or maybe it was just because you were with an ethereal being? He sure  _ felt _ solid enough, as his hands slid down to grip your shoulders, then traced lightly down your arms as he pulled away. He stared at you, and you at him...and then he rubbed the back of his neck, sitting back on his heels. He seemed to be wrestling with something, and then muttered "fuck it".

“where...where’s the cancer?” You pointed to your stomach. He put his hand there, and you felt a strange tug as he pulled a dark mass from it. He crushed the swirling mass in his hands. “don’t tell anyone...i’m really not supposed to do that.”

“Do wha--”

But he was gone.

* * *

“you were supposed to reap her...”

“yup.”

“...but you cured her cancer.”

“yup.”

Grim sighed, pinching the bone of his nasal passage. “you can’t just...go about performing miracles.”

“look at her, grim. she’d never been kissed!”

“oh, yeah, that reminds me, no more kissing clients.”

Sans huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “whatever. just gimme another target so I can finish my debt.”

“that’s not how this works. she’s your target, regardless of what you did.” He handed him a list. “this is a list of some of the deaths possible in the next 5 years, it’s your job to see to it that one sticks this time.”

“what...i can’t...wait, she still only gets 5 years?!”

“we don’t sow the seeds, red.”

“...we just reap ‘em. i get it, jeez.”

* * *

“Your hair is looking so cute! I can’t believe it’s already growing after just a few weeks!” Your best friend chirped, pulling you in for a big squeeze. “Oohhh, my miracle girl, curing cancer overnight~”

“Please, Janie, I didn’t do anything.” It was all that sweet reaper who was supposed to collect your soul. You had thought it was a dream, but your cancer really was gone when you woke in the morning, and you could still feel the tingle of his kiss on your lips.

“I don’t care, it’s awesome! Race you to the ice cream store!” And with that, she took off across the street. You laughed and started to follow her, but you felt someone take your hand. You looked back, and for a second you thought you saw the crimson eyelights of the reaper…

_ Vrooom! _

A semi truck whizzed past you, grazing your hair slightly and sending you stumbling back. The same hands pushed you back to your feet, but when you whirled around to see him, he was gone. You could hear Janie shouting frantically from across the street as you stared at the taillights of the semi disappearing around the corner. 

Had he saved you again?

* * *

You could swear you felt his hands on you, steering you away from that drink the stranger bought you on your 21st birthday. You heard his voice whispering in the dark the night you almost let your friend drive you home after he’d had a few. Told you to take a right instead of a left, tugged your hand to stop you from walking into a shop that ended up being shot up. He was everywhere you needed him, but he never stuck around to say why. 

It was lonely.

“Why are you hiding?” You called out one night, after he warned you not to make toast. “Why are you doing all this for me?”

Static.

“Please...don’t hide from me.” You pleaded, bringing your hand to your chest as the tears stung at the corner of your eyes. “I miss you.”

“...you must really love death.”

There he was, no robe, just leaning against the counter nonchalantly as if he wasn’t the fucking reaper.

“Not death.” You admitted. He grimaced, eyes sad as he met yours.

“you can’t love me, doll.”

“And why not?” You asked stubbornly, crossing your arms. “You’ve always been there for me when I needed you. And you came when I called. Why can’t I love that?”

“because i’ll still let you die someday. i have to.”

“That’s alright, that’s just your job.” You closed the distance, and he uncrossed his arms to accept your embrace with a sigh. “Please, I’ll love you even if you tell me not to, so just accept it.”

“humans are so stubborn…” He mumbled weakly, hand migrating to the nape of your neck as he pressed his face into your soft hair. He stifled a moan as you kissed his collarbone sweetly. “y-you don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” You whispered, arms sliding around his neck, caressing the back of his skull as he dipped down to meet your kiss with a groan. “I know you love me, too.”

“...s’at so…”

“Of course you do...why else would you be so desperate to save me?”

He hummed against your lips. “mmm...ya got me there, kitten.”

* * *

“no.”

“c’mon, grim, give a guy a break.”

“do you have any idea the magnitude of the favor you’re askin’?”

“she’s a literal saint, ain’t done a lick of bad in ‘er life. she deserves a chance to be happy.”

“to be happy with you, you mean?”

“......”

“...i guess you'll  _ technically _ have her soul in your possession... _ fine _ . but if she doesn’t die by 25 there’s only one possible death and you won’t have a choice this time. you’ll collect her soul when i tell you to, no bargaining, no getting out of it. can you do that?”

“if it means i get a life with her...i’ll do anythin’.”

“fine. then i consider your debt paid.”

“then--”

“yes, your brother will wake up in his bed with no recollection of dying...how do you always convince me to make these deals with you?”

“hmm...cause i’m cute?”

“...get outta here before i change my mind.”

* * *

It was past midnight when you felt the bed sink with someone’s weight. You didn’t have to open your eyes to recognize the feeling of his bones as he traced down your arm.

“Reaper?” You asked quietly, turning over. The pinpricks of crimson light stared back at you from the darkness as he pressed a skeletal finger against your lips.

“shh...call me sans now.”

Sans. The name rung in your head like a bell, and you smiled against his finger.

“Are you here to take me?”

“in a sense, i guess i am.”

An expert with double-entendre, it seems. He leaned down, moving his finger to grip your chin gently as he kissed you, and you sighed, remembering his touch all those times he saved you, his voice, his kiss in the hospital room when you were just a withering shell of yourself. He saved you in more ways than physical that night, and you told him this.

“no, sweetheart...you saved  _ me _ .”

He moved on top of you, kissing you again, hungrier, needier, as if he would die without your touch. You responded, arching your back so his hand could slide into the space and support it, pulling you closer. 

“You know...they always talk about flirting with death…” You panted. “...but they never tell you what happens when you fall in love with him.”

“i’m not really death, sweetheart. m’just a monster who made a deal.”

“Well...I’m glad you did.”

“mmm...me, too.”

His love was like a hurricane. Powerful, commanding, strong against all obstacles, as he proved again and again over the years. He was fiercely protective, and loyal, and he was still always there when you needed him, wearing that grin that you fell in love with so easily. Despite the strangeness of having a monster partner, nobody seemed to mind him once they saw how he treated you. And he loved you, _God,_ he loved you so much, and he showed you. When you made love for the first time, he stopped at every noise, so nervous...and then after that, he never stopped kissing you, even when you were being rough, even when you held his leash in your hands like a wolf trainer, he never stopped kissing you, as if he was making sure you’d never be able to tell the real Reaper you’d never been kissed.

He never said it out loud, but you knew he’d be taking your soul one day, and he was cherishing every second until that time came. Every day was a gift...that’s what he always said. 

And it was true. Every day was something out of a fairytale, even when you fought, even when you had a hard day.  Even when he had nightmares that wracked his body with convulsions, coating him in a cold sweat.

“you’re so beautiful...” he muttered into your shoulder as he pulled you in one night, stirring you from your slumber with his embrace.

“Mmm...bad dream?”

“always. i guess it’s ‘cause my real life is so amazing...there’s nothing good left to dream about.” He was kissing the back of your neck now, hands roaming over your breasts, shoulders, waist, hips...he was making sure you were still here, making sure you weren’t going to disappear. You sighed at his touch, pressing your backside into his pelvis, and he groaned against your skin. It wasn’t long before he was pressing against you, holding your leg up as if asking permission.

He needed you right now. He had another nightmare about your death, another horrible dream about losing you. You stretched, angling yourself favorably, and he gasped as he pressed inside of you, enjoying the feeling of your skin, the feeling of you. You keened beneath him as he rolled over, kissing your spine as he rocked against you from behind, muttering your name against your skin as if it were a spell, a charm to keep death away. He wanted you to feel worshipped.

He couldn’t keep his mouth off you, even like this, as he threaded his fingers through yours, leaning his body down on yours so he could whisper in your ear, kiss your neck, your hair. He told you about everything he felt, the overwhelming joy that came from being with you, the dizzy feeling he gets when he sees you, and the noises...oh, stars, the noises. The noises you made...they should be illegal, they were intoxicating, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

He didn’t see your soul or his until they were already touching, and you both gripped each other, gasping, as they pressed into each other. He’d never felt anything like it, this feeling of knowing you…

_ You were five years old and you just got a new bike. You scraped your knee and your father bandaged it but the bleeding didn’t stop. _

**_He was five years old and he sat in Gaster’s lab, staring at the tiny skeletal body in the tank, shaking with rage at the thought of this innocent babe who would be Gaster’s next victim…_ **

_ You were 12 years old and in remission. You smiled and laughed with your friends as you entered the classroom. A banner with your name on it, a party, a cake...celebrating your whole life ahead of you. _

**_He was 12 years old and holding his brother’s shaking form as monsters advanced on them in the alley. He felt the fire in his eyes before he saw the skeletal wolves. He didn’t realize he’d done it until days later._ **

_ You were 16 years old and you dressed up for your date. He took you to the movies, held your hand...and then he kissed the girl next to him. _

**_He was 16 years old and he had three jobs, and he was building a house for him and his brother to live without imposing on Gaster. Gaster fell, and there was nothing he could do about it._ **

_ You were 18 years old and you collapsed at graduation, diploma rolling across the wood as you lay unconscious on the stage. Doctors say you have a year, maybe two. _

**_He was 18 years old and the pain in his skull was almost unbearable. The collar on his neck was a small price to pay for the way he’d disfigured his brother’s face, but he hadn’t expected the blow to his head. The child was only 13!_ **

**_He was 23 years old as he watched his brother turn to dust at the hands of a small child. Over and over and over...He fought, he screamed, he killed the child again and again and again...he made friends with them. He came to the surface, and everyone made it. He was happy._ **

_ You were 19 years old and spending another birthday in the hospital. You heard that monsters had made it to the surface, and wondered if you’d ever get to meet one. You saw his face on the TV, standing with the royal family. He looked like the grim reaper. _

**_He was 24 years old when his brother died again. No resets, not this time. Humans, scared humans armed with hate, knives, guns, and bats. What better target than a 7 ½ foot tall skeleton with scars on his skull? He broke the rules, he sought the reaper. He made a deal, he…_ **

_ You were 20 years old and you kissed your reaper. He saved your life instead of taking it. _

_ You fell in love that night. _

**_He fell in love that night._ **

When he came to, you were both gasping, both crying. You had turned around, and he was still inside you as he leaned down to capture your mouth, and you both came harder than ever as he pulled you close. Your bonded souls returned to their respective chests, and he held you as you both sobbed, the comfort of each other being the only thing in this world you would ever need again.

* * *

“what about axton?” He drawled, nuzzling your tummy.

“Like from Borderlands?”

“no, like hoyt axton...you know, ‘joy to the world’?”

You giggled as his fingers drummed a gentle rhythm on the swell of your baby bump. “Because he’s going to bring joy to our world?”

“exactly.”

“I like Axton.” You dissented. Better than the several other names he’d suggested, like Bloodfang or Mercutio. “Did you only suggest those other crazy ones because you wanted me to be relieved to hear you say something normal like Axton?”

“...maybe.” He grinned at you, laying his head on your belly with a hum. This baby could come any day now, and you could feel his excitement in your own soul, through the bond that was currently supplying magic to your little one.

“Think he’ll be a monster? Or a human?” You asked, rubbing his skull as his sockets slid shut.

“probably some freaky mix of the two. might not even have skin. he’ll look like that one part in galaxy quest where they fucked up the transfer beam and transferred the thing inside out.”

“Sans.”

“m’just kidding, babe. he’ll be perfe-- _ ow! _ ” His head bounced off your stomach and you gasped. The baby had kicked so hard it had kicked his head off!

“ _ Huff _ ...ha, Axton heard you were talkin’ shit.” You said, laughing through the pain. “Oh!”

He shot up, shocked by the wetness that suddenly leaked through your dress. Your eyes met, and for a second, nothing happened...and then it clicked.

“Oh, my God! Sans!”

“fuck! paps! it’s go time! paps!” He scrambled up, shouting for his brother, who came barrelling down the stairs armed with your hospital bag...wearing a #1 Uncle tshirt. Well, points for enthusiasm.

Your brother-in-law hoisted you into his arms effortlessly, telling you to breathe in a strangled sort of way that indicated he should take his own advice.

The hospital was a whirlwind, and Sans was a wreck. If it weren’t for Papyrus, his head would be long gone and he never would have thought to tell anyone he’s the father. As it happened, his brother picked him up as soon as you were settled and waded through the throng of people fussing over you to set him down beside you. He barely registered anything that anyone said, instead grasping your hand tightly, pressing his skull against your sweaty hair as you pushed, screaming, clutching his hand. He whispered to you the whole time, like a charm, like all those years ago when you first bonded.

After ages, the room fell quiet, and soft crying could be heard. The nurse, a rabbit monster, handed you the bundle and he craned to see the baby’s face…

And everything froze.

He looked around frantically. Nobody was moving, there was no sound, there was--

**Grim.**

He stood on the other side of the bed, looking guilty and sad. His clipboard was in his hand, and he tapped it pointedly.

Sans understood.

“n...no...no!” He lunged across the bed, grabbing a handful of his robe. “no! don’t do this! you...you can’t!”

“...i’m sorry, red.” He said, gripping his wrist as his hand twisted the robe. “i know this must hurt.”

“we...only got nine years...and...the baby…” Despair grasped his soul, and his free hand clutched at his chest. “i...i won’t do it. you can’t make me.”

“you have to.”

“give me a break! you’re a sans, you gotta know how i feel!”

“i’ve given you three breaks, red. i letcha keep your brother, i letcha keep your girl a little longer...i’m lettin’ you keep your son.” Sans brought his eyes to lock onto Grim’s. “...yeah. he was supposed to die. her soul wasn’t meant to survive this long, he shouldn’t be here...it’s either her, or him and your brother.”

Sans released him, clenching his jaw.

“you...you can’t expect me to make that choice, man.”

“s’not your choice to make.” He nodded to your face, and Sans finally heard the sniffles. You weren’t frozen. You were staring down at the baby with tears streaming down your face, and the baby was cooing and gurgling. Grim stepped back. “five minutes. that’s all i can do.”

You sobbed as Sans leaned down to sit in the bed with you, adjusting so you were on his shoulder and he could see your baby’s face. Crimson eyes, a mostly human body...he had teeth already, sharp ones.

“I can’t, Sans.” You said quietly.

“shh...shhh baby i know…” He tipped your head up to kiss you...he knew you couldn’t choose yourself over your child. He poured it all into that kiss, every ounce of love, every tiny bit of affection he could muster, every feeling he’d ever had for you, and the tingle he received in return showed him you did so, too. You pulled away, looking into his eyes adoringly.

“I love you.” You whispered. In that simple phrase, he heard it all. He heard your gratitude, the feeling that he gave you everything...the goodbye.

The world started again, slowly at first...then he laid the baby safely down, and your eyes closed, and he cupped your soul gently, kissing it before he reached out with a shaking hand.

“i don’t take pleasure in this,” Grim muttered as he took it, and disappeared. 

He held you close, tears pouring from his sockets silently as he heard his brother’s voice shouting his name in slow motion.

“SSSAAAAAANSSSS….SANS! SANS! WHAT’S GOING ON!”

“Doctor, she’s unresponsive!”

“Get him out of there, we need to try to revive! Somebody take the child!”

“Sir, I need you to let her go now so we can save her.”

“no! no, don’t touch her!” He growled, tears flying as he whipped his head around to glare at the doctors and nurses who were trying to peel him away. His brother’s strong arms weaseled around him and pulled him away as the rabbit nurse gathered the bundle that was your child.

“SANS! THEY ARE TRYING TO HELP!”

His shouts echoed over the noise of the doctors and nurse rushing around you.

“they can’t help! just...j-just let me be with her! paps...just...let me be with her...”

* * *

“Sans.”

He ignored his brother’s voice, staring out the window down into the garden you had cared so meticulously. It would grow over now, and he’d never be able to touch it without feeling your skin.

“Sans, please. Hold your child.”

“...i can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You just need to hold your arms out.” Papyrus used his free hand to rearrange him. He did this every day, trying to make Sans take the baby. But he couldn’t...he couldn’t look at him. Papyrus understood that his loss was deep, and he missed you, too, but…

He looked down at the sleeping face of his nephew, and back to the despondent stare of his brother. He changed his tactic.

Sans allowed his brother to draw him into his lap, and the baby was laid in his arms, supported by Papyrus’ strong bones.

“...what’re ya doin’, man…”

“Helping you.” He responded with a sniff. “Look at your child, Sans.”

“.....”

“Do it now.”

“...bro.”

“Dammit, Sans!” He felt his collar yanked back by his brother’s free hand so that he was staring into his brother’s sockets. It had been a long time since he’d lost his temper with him. “I understand you miss your wife, and you have a hard time coming to terms with her absence, _however_ , you _cannot_ take this out on your child! What would she think?”

He immediately felt guilty, thinking about how happy you were to give up your life for this baby...how you loved him so much that until the very end you would protect the proof of that love. He could feel the tears welling in his sockets as he clutched his shirt with his free hand.

“...paps...i...c-can...t...on my…”

“You aren’t alone...I am here. Now, look at him, Sans.”

He did.

And he sobbed as he brought the tiny form to his chest, his brother’s hand on his back as he cradled his son for the first time. Emotions flooded him as his tears overflowed, staining his shirt red like blood. Pride, happiness, agony, torment...He’d be the best husband. He'd do it for you, and for Axton...He'd be the best dad...

….you’ll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally crying just rereading it. I'm gonna go die now.


	13. Brewing Up Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red tries to use a love potion on you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from an anon on Tumblr and it turned out nice, so I thought I’d add it here!

This was stupid. So stupid. SososososososoSO stupid.

Red’s hands shook as he mixed your drink, like he did every time you came over for drunk movie night. He was careful, he did it exactly how you liked because you always compliment him when he gets it right and it makes him feel so good to hear you praise him.

You’d been friends for a long while now, and he’s always been a huge flirt. It took him a long time to realize that he was having a harder time flirting with you as each day passed...that he was getting shakier, that he was stuttering more. When he pieced it all together he had groaned, and gone to Edge with a rock and a target painted on his skull, trying to convince him to kill him. His brother had poked fun at his situation, but recommended he ask Alphys and Undyne for advice. As stupid of an idea as it sounded, he did it anyway, and so here he was…

...about to spike your drink with a love potion.

It was just a little one, Alphys had explained. It would leave you enamored for approximately 30 minutes...long enough for him to get a taste of what it would be like if you loved him back. Then he could blame it on the alcohol, and everything would go back to normal and he could work from there.

He almost dropped the bottle as he dumped it into your drink, wondering what you’d be like, imagining how it would sound to hear you telling him you loved him. He closed his sockets and sighed, pocketing the bottle and picking up the drinks.

Then he plastered his usual grin on and sauntered back over to where you were cuddling his huge dog, Killer.

“Who’s a good boy? Is it Killer? Huh, is it?” You crooned, ruffling his long white fur as he panted and rolled over, giving you access to his belly.

“lucky dog,” Red chuckled, winking at you as he handed you the drink. You laughed, tipping it back to drink the whole thing easily, like you always did with the first drink of the night.

“Mmm, perfect again, friend. So, what’s on the playlist tonight?”

“the cinnamon bun picked some sappy romance movies,” he lied. Blaming the sweet, shy Papyrus who lived there with his own version of Sans was always a winning card. She had a soft spot for the sweetheart, as friends.

“Yes! Let’s take a shot every time we hear the word ‘love’!” You giggled. He stared at you. You didn’t seem different at all. How long until the potion started working?

“uh, yeah, let’s do that, heh.”

25 minutes into the Princess Bride and he was starting to get frustrated. Your behavior didn’t change one bit! He pulled his phone out, checking to make sure you weren’t looking as he texted Alphys.

_10:42pm_

**BigRed** : hey al what the fuck is up with this potion? how long’s it take?

 **Al-Chan:** it's immediate. Are you saying you haven’t seen a change?

 **BigRed:** nope. gave it to her half an hour ago.

_10:56pm_

**BigRed:** hello??

 **Al-Chan:** hold your horses! I was checking something.

 **BigRed:** so???

 **Al-Chan:** still checking. Get back to you.

 

“Didja swipe right?” You teased.

“wh-what?” He jumped, fumbling his phone, looking over at you as you raised an eyebrow.

“You looked like you were considering something. You’re on Tindr again?”

“oh, uh, yeah, heh. total butterface, though. thumbs down.”

Your lips pursed, you leaned back against the couch armrest, returning your attention to the TV.

 

_11:07pm_

**BigRed:** looking bad over here, al

 **Al-Chan:** alright, look.

 **Al-Chan:** It’s supposed to reveal the behavior they would express if they were in love with you.

 **BigRed:** yeah i know only there’s nothin different

 **Al-Chan:** Red.

 **BigRed:** what?!

 **Al-Chan:** think about it

 

The hell does that mean?! If her stupid potion had worked, then you should be acting like you would if you loved him! You should be…

Oh.

_Oh._

It was just as hunch, but if it was true...

“i wasn’t on tindr.” He said quickly. You looked up at him in confusion. “i...was talking to alphys...about the potion i put in your drink.”

“You did what?” Your eyebrows all but disappeared into your thick hair.

“it was just a stupid thing! a little love potion that would make you act like you would if you loved me…” He was flushing bright pink. “but...you’re the same...as ever….it didn’t work, you didn’t change.”

“W-well…” You sat up, flustered, and the red blush spread across your cheeks was so sugar sweet to his eyes. “O-of course I didn’t...change…I _already_ love you...you dolt.”

He stared dumbly at you as his phone slipped from his hands and clunked across the floor. He didn’t even see Sans coming into the room with a blown up paper bag, ready to pop it.

“ _wow._ i’ll uh...come back later.” Sans grumbled to himself as he retreated quietly.

The silence reigned as Wesley and Inigo bantered on the screen in the background. You cleared your throat, embarrassed, and sat up quickly, grabbing the bottle of whiskey.

“Th-three shots! You said the L-word twice, I said it once!”

He reached over and stopped your hand as you started to pour.

“four shots.”

“I-It’s three, I can count.”

“nah. four.”

“Red, I'm not _that_ drunk.”

“s’four…..counting the part where i say i love you, too.”

You looked at him in the same shock you’d seen on his face moments before. He flushed pink as he removed the bottle and took your hand in his, tenderly running his thumb over the back of your hand before bringing it up to his mouth to place a small kiss there.

“...so d-do we kiss first, or t-take the shots first?” He stuttered against your hand.

“I...think we should kiss before the shock wears off and we get embarrassed.”

“...fair enough.”

And you did.


	14. First Time*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red is growing increasingly frustrated with his boyfriend. He’s more than happy to service Red, but doesn’t want him to return the favor...well, that’s going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT! LOTS OF IT! And Ecto-dong and ecto-vag, too.  
> FtM Trans reader.  
> Requested by some friends on Tumblr who were having trouble finding writers willing to write for an FtM trans reader.  
> Smut!

Red had never been known for his patience. His gruff manner and poor impulse control already meant he usually didn’t have to wait for anything, and so when he  _ did _ have to wait for something, it was like torture.

Especially when it was sex.

He’d been dating you for, what, 6 months now? Damn. He’d never waited this long for sex in his life. He loved his boyfriend, though, and would do anything to make you feel comfortable, and so he always backed off when you told him to. You were a handsome man, and a great fucking cook, and you drank like nobody’s business. Who was he to ruin a good thing?

But it wasn’t that you pushed him away when things were getting good. It wasn’t that you always redirected his hands away from anywhere south. It was the fact that you’re more than willing to pleasure him, that you’re obviously just as heated as he is, that you very clearly want it and then...you just shut down any attempt to make you feel good, too. Don’t get him wrong, he likes a good blowjob (and he means a  _ good blowjob, _ hot damn) as much as the next guy, but this is just as much about you as it is about him.

So tonight he had you against the pillows, and you were breathing heavy, and he was enjoying every inch of exposed skin he could see in your work uniform, grinning every time you panted his nickname. He was trying to enjoy it, he really was, but there was this nagging voice that was saying this was the part where you always...yup. There it was. Your hands pushed him off, and he begrudgingly retreated to sit back on his heels, allowing you to wiggle out from beneath him.

His frustration was obvious as you sat up a bit, observing his suddenly rigid form as he sighed, running a hand over the crack in his skull.

You were about to offer to pleasure him, but he seemed to know what you were going to say and he held up his hand to stop you.

“alright. i’ll be frank. i wanna fuck you.” He said bluntly. Oh, fuck, why did that have to sound so hot coming from him? “but i can clearly see something is holding you back, so i haven’t said anything. but  _ fuck, _ man. you’re hot as fuck, and you drive me nuts! whatever it is that you’re afraid of, ain’t we at the point we can talk about it?”

You stared at him confusedly for a moment, trying to process this. You scratched at your prickly beard, trying to come up with a suitable answer. You hadn’t really...gotten around to telling Red you were trans just yet. Was that even a thing for monsters? You were honestly afraid of how he’d take it. Not the fact that you didn’t have a dick...yet...but the fact that you’d been half-lying to him for, like, six months.

“c’mon, babe. i can see you’re holding so much back. why?” He moved back towards you, almost crawling so he could bump his chest against yours. His eyes held a sense of hurt and concern, replaced quickly by that lewd grin he usually wore. “...can’t i be the one to make  _ you _ feel good tonight?”

“...I don’t...I mean, it’s just kind of weird...and I’m afraid you’ll be mad?” You blurted, leaning backward a bit. “Look...I’m not against...talking about it. I’m not. But...can I do you...first? It’d help.”

He seemed surprised at this. “me first?...really?”

You nodded.

“then you’ll tell me what’s up?”

Nod.

“and  _ then _ you’ll let me do you?”

Hesitation.

“y/n.”

….Slow nod.

He watched your face for a moment, with that look he gets when he’s figuring something out. Then he shrugs and grins, falling sideways to spread himself across the pillows, pushing his shorts down as his cock materialized.

“knock yerself out, kid.”

His magic was always impressive. Every time you saw that cock, you got excited, and not just because you couldn’t wait to wrap your lips around it. It was fucking perfect--double digits in length, and girthy. He looked so hot whenever he laid back like this, waiting for you. You wanted one just like that, if you could help it. You eagerly moved forward to take it into your mouth, and the lewd moans escaping him were absolutely sinful, borderline demonic. 

You were an expert at this by now--you knew all his buttons, how long and hard to suck, everything. It made up for the fact that you could barely fit a quarter of it in your mouth, and it wasn’t long before his hands were tangled in the sheets, and he was groaning your name in that wrecked voice you loved so much. He came quickly, to your surprise...but then again, he was probably teeming with anticipation.

“f...fuck…” He groaned as you let his seed pump relentlessly into your mouth, swallowing as much as you could. He loved seeing it dribble down the sides, almost looking like blood as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “damn. you’re always so good at that. i gotta lotta catchin’ up to do.”

He watched your face closely as you remembered your promise, and a nervous air overtook your usually confident form. He didn’t like that, it looked wrong. You were his confident beast, but right now you looked more like a frightened mouse, curling in on yourself.

He listened raptly to your mumbled stuttering as you sort of explained that you’d been hiding something, and he realized what you meant.

“trans, huh? so, like, you were born with the wrong parts?” He asked, leaning back thoughtfully. “hmm...can’t say i know the feeling, i can make whatever parts i want. but i guess i can understand the feeling of not being able to have my dick.”

He caught your stare.

“what?”

“...You can make whatever parts you want?” You asked, genuinely surprised. Hmm. He supposed he hadn’t really ever had to test that with you.

“yeah, sure can. but we ain’t talkin’ about me. a’ight, pants off.”

You looked almost as if he’d slapped you. “E-excuse me?”

“pants. off.” he repeated slowly, pushing off the pillows. “you said we could do it after you told me, and now you told me.”

“You...aren’t mad?”

“pffft. i don’t care what parts you do or don’t have. you’re my boyfriend, ya dingus, i love yo...oouu….” He felt his face burning immediately as he realised his words. That was the first time he’d said that, dammit! Well, it wasn’t the worst possible time, but it was still...oh fuck, he was so...focus on the potential bangin’ going on, Red! “ **so!** uh, pants off...please?”

You didn’t know where to start with your surprise. Firstly, he wasn’t even mad. Secondly, he didn’t care at all. And finally,  _ did you just hear that right? _ Shit, he was as red as a stop light right now, and you were pretty sure you were just as red yourself.

“I...love you, too, Red…” you mumbled, and his eyelights disappeared completely as he locked up momentarily.

It only lasted a second, and then suddenly he was on top of you, and you were right back to where it all began thirty minutes ago, except now he was grinding against you mercilessly, drawing languid moans from your lips as he all but ripped your clothing off. You fought the urge to push him off by reminding your hazy, lustful mind that he knew now, that he loved you and...you couldn’t help but to hold your breath as his fingers met the elastic waistband of your boxer briefs.

He hesitated.

Oh, God, was he rethinking it?

“...is it alright...if i...?” He tapped the elastic pointedly, giving you a concerned look. Relief swept over you as you realized he was only worried about consent.

“...Please?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He yanked the fabric away from your body, and suddenly you were very  _ very _ aware of your nakedness. He sucked in a breath as his eyelights rolled over your naked body for the first time. It seemed like ages that he just sat there, just looking at you…

He let out a low whistle. “fuck, man. you’re so fuckin’  _ hot _ .”

“R-really?” You asked incredulously. He pinched your thigh, making your knee jerk in surprise.

“ _ yes _ , really. cripes, you truly are a dingus.” His eyes returned to observe your naked form once again, pleased that he’d made it this far tonight. Sure, in his imagination, he’d dreamed up a huge dick, but that wasn’t really anybody’s fault, and it didn’t make your true form any less appealing. In fact, he preferred this. This was  _ you _ , not some imaginary thing, this was the part of you that you had been afraid he wouldn’t accept. And boy, was he about to accept the shit out of it.

His hand slid down your thigh towards your heat, and he watched you carefully as he got closer. He slowed his pace whenever you looked too uncomfortable, but finally he grew impatient so he just asked.

“can i touch you?” He gestured for emphasis, and you nodded meekly. He really wanted his confident boyfriend back, but he supposed that would come with time.

In any case, he had permission now, so his hand slid down to caress your small labial folds, one digit swirling around the enlarged clit with interest. As he suspected, that was  _ mighty sensitive _ .

He leaned down, and you sucked in a breath as you felt something warm and wet press against your nub. You jerked back momentarily, but Red snaked his hands around your legs, holding you still as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive spot, paying special attention to it as if it were a dick.

“so, how d’you wanna do this, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice a hungry growl between your legs. “i could do more of this--” He illustrated by trailing one long, languid lick up your slit. “--or we could try some soul stuff...or maybe some toys? or, uh, my dick if that’s not too uncomfortable.”

Your head was still spinning from that last lick, and he wanted you to choose something?!

“Uh...uhm...uhhh…” you said smartly, and he chuckled against your thigh. “I-I don’t know...I’ve never…uhm, been intimate.”

“woah, wait.” His head popped into view, staring at you. “like, never? not even before the transition?”

You shook your head, and he actually looked...excited. He was kissing your abs now, mumbling against your skin.

“all mine, then, i fuckin’ like that. damn, handsome, you got me all sortsa bothered.”

“Sorry?”

“no apologies, just tell me what you want.”

“Uh, I...could we try a little of everything?”

“mmmm, baby bird gonna get his wings tonight...alright, sounds good to me. more than good, fuck.” Red leaned back, sitting on his heels again to shrug off his jacket, followed quickly by his red sweater, leaving his collar clanking against his bones in the low light.  _ Hot _ . He waved a hand lazily, and something in his closet clanked. He frowned, waving his hand with more urgency, and the closet shot open, spilling things everywhere as a black bag floated over to settle at the foot of the bed. He dragged it over and unzipped it, muttering to himself as he threw some very confusing items from it. Uhm, okay, that one was definitely a dragon dildo...your boyfriend was a much bigger freak than you thought he was.

“know what. I don’t have anything appropriate for your situation. s’all for cis people, or monsters. mind if i google somethin’? i can do it while i google you~♡”

You were impressed by his knowledge of the vernacular, and even more so by that smooth recovery of the mood. He didn’t even wait for your response, but rather dipped his fingers down again to massage the area. He didn’t spend too long looking at his phone, pausing frequently to shoot you a grin or to make you shiver with a lick. Finally, he tossed the phone behind him, using his femurs to spread your thighs.

You watched enraptured as he formed a ball of magic, twisting it into a new toy.

“hey, bonus is this one gives me pleasure, too, cause it’s made of my magic.” He chuckled. He slipped it over your enlarged clit, and you cried out in pleasure as he wrapped his hand around it, working it slowly like a handjob. You’d seen toys like these before, but you’d never used one until now...a decision you were now doubting as your eyes slammed shut, groaning. “f...fuck, those are some naughty noises, sweetheart.”

You felt his girth poking you in the thigh, but he didn’t make any move to force it in, instead just rubbing it along your skin with a groan, an urgency propelling his hand the longer he went. There was a warmth traveling from the magic in his hand, and it crawled from your clit over your folds, a tingly sort of pressure building in your heat. You gasped in surprise as his fingers probed your entrance, pressing in slowly. The tingle of magic followed, stretching you gingerly as he leaned over to kiss your chest, your arms, anything his mouth could reach. You took pity on him a little, sitting up more against the pillows so your short monster could reach your lips. He was almost too excited, kissing you so fiercely that he nipped you with his fangs. He moaned against your lips, and suddenly he was poised against you, whining quietly. You grunted in return, and he pressed into you slowly, slowly, and  _ fuck _ that felt good. He was so thick that it took several tries to really get him in, but when he did finally manage to bury himself to the hilt, you were both panting wildly.

The toy disappeared as his hands moved to grip your thighs, eyesockets slamming shut as he shivered, enjoying the feeling of being inside you.

“this is al...alright?” He checked. You nodded in response, making him grin. He leaned down to kiss you, moving slowly inside you and drawing a growl from his chest that reverberated in your ribs.  _ Fuck _ . You tried desperately to remember why you’d waited so long to let him do this to you, but you couldn’t remember if your life depended on it. His mouth was everywhere he could reach again as you clutched the back of his head, groaning at every touch of his fingertips, of his tongue, of his teeth.

He was in heaven. It wasn’t just that it was finally happening, it wasn’t just that it felt good...no, it was the noises you were making, the desperate way you were pulling on his collar as he picked up the pace, the way his name sounded on your lips as you came...it was everything he’d ever wanted and more. So much more.

“mmm...wish i could help you fuck  _ me _ like thi...shit.” He stopped, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. You were immediately worried. Did you do something wrong? He seemed to read your face because he chuckled,  swooping in to kiss you before slipping out of you. “i just remembered, i  _ do _ have something you can use. i think you’ll like it.”

He reached past you to the bedside table, pulling the drawer out. “i hope it ain’t too weird, i ordered it when i was in sub heat so you never know.”

“Sub heat?”

“the heat where i’m just itchin’ to get fucked like a bitch...don’t worry, slugger, i’ll call you next time~♡” He winked at you as if he’d explained it perfectly, but you still didn’t really know what he was talking about. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and he threw it to you. “there. your turn.”

And with that, he flopped onto his back, grinning at you as you examined the package. It was just like the packers you’d bought before, but the label claimed lots of weird magic stuff in a strange language…

“I can’t really read this?”

“just put it on. you’ll like it.”

You did, and you did. It conformed to your body instantly, and despite the inhuman purple color and the slight glow, it looked natural. And it responded to your own arousal, standing at attention immediately! “Holy shit!”

Red chuckled next to you, reaching over to swirl one finger around the tip. You gasped at the sensation, and it clicked--You could feel  _ everything _ .

“toldja you’d like it. now, don’tcha wanna use it, hot stuff?”

One glance at him made it obvious he’d switched gears. He was laying back on the pillows, and had pulled his shorts off completely to reveal that he had indeed been correct about being able to form any parts he wanted.

“Wow. You look a lot more comfortable in yours than I did in mine,” you joked, and he laughed.

“don’t compare us, you’re way stronger than me. now c’mere.” He all but pulled you on top of him, positioning his knees on either side of you. Fuck, you’d never seen him in such a submissive position before...it made you feel powerful. It felt right. “fuck...there’s my man. found your confidence, babe? like what you see?”

“Hell yeah,” you muttered. He guided the tip to press against his entrance, sighing immediately upon contact.

You didn’t want to waste another second, and you pressed into him immediately, causing him to gasp. He muttered a soft swear as you hilted the toy inside him, and a soft, possessive noise escaped your chest at the sensation. He groped for something to hold onto, settling for your shoulders as he rutted his hips upward, trying to get some friction started.

“g-godammit y/n, what’re you waitin’ for? f-fuckin...wreck me...please…”

You were happy to oblige. The movements felt so natural, despite never having done this before, and you fell into rhythm quickly, his pants and moans driving you closer and closer to your own release.

“f-fuck, that feels...oh, god, man, you…” Red was having a hard time forming a sentence beneath you as he wrapped his legs around your waist, trying to lift his pelvis up for better access. He sounded so wrecked as he called your name, and you muttered his against the smooth bone of his skull. You pushed into him again, feeling waves of ecstasy as you climaxed, and his walls tightened around the toy, milking it as he came just as hard. Your head was swimming as you collapsed on top of him, and he pressed kisses against your brow.

“Sh...shit...that was definitely worth the wait,” He panted, kissing you tenderly on the mouth. You hummed in agreement. You slid the toy out of him and his magic disintegrated. You stared at the toy for a moment, covered in his red cum. A satisfying sight.

“Y...you really didn’t mind the…?” You gestured to your genitals as you removed the toy, and he rolled his eyelights.

“pft. obviously not.” He flicked you in the forehead. “Dingus.”

“I’m sorry...I just…” You couldn’t really articulate what it all had meant to you. He swept you to the side, snuggling against your chest and tracing the tattoo on your upper arm as he hummed.

“mmm you don’t have to explain yourself, man. i felt it, too.” He muttered against your skin, enjoying the feeling of your strong arms around him. You tighten your grip, nuzzling your face against his skull and making him laugh as you tickled him with your beard. “dude, it’s like sandpaper, st-aaaahp!”

“Never! I’ll never stop!” You rub your beard on him more agressively, and he tried to lean back but you were holding him fast. His laughter was like a deep well of happiness, happiness that struck your heart like--

“ _ OH MY GOD! IF YOU’RE GOING TO FUCK CAN YOU AT LEAST DO IT WHEN I’M  _ **_NOT_ ** _ TRYING TO SLEEP IN THE NEXT ROOM???” _

You both froze at Edge’s irritated voice piercing through the walls, eyes wide as you both remembered for the first time that he was there. Red chuckled, grinning at you as he responded.

“uuhhhh...sorry, boss, but i’m not sorry in the slightest.” 


	15. Baby Blues: Father's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason's first word. You wonder if it's appropriate to get Sans a father's day card.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Father's Day special requested by Jelly-Belly, of course!  
> This was good. Got the taste of Fear the Reaper out of my mouth.

Your hand hesitated, hovering over the card as you wondered to yourself how appropriate this was. Would he accept it? Would he freak out? You’d only been dating a couple of months...yes, he’s wonderful with Mason, but does that mean he wants to be a father? Would it be weird to get him something for Father's day?

You snatched the card before you could second-guess yourself again. You had the whole car ride home to change your mind, after all.

* * *

“hey, little man, you’re supposed to drink the milk, not wear it.” Sans chuckled, setting the bottle aside to wipe the excess formula off of Mason’s face. He couldn’t stop staring at the little thing, so proud of how big he’s gotten since they met. “you’re gonna be a big fucker one day, man. i can tell.”

Mason gurgled in response, and his grin widened. He brought the child up to his shoulder, shifting his weight to his feet so he could walk and bounce while he burped him. He glanced at the clock. Hmm. You were never home this late, especially not when he’s staying over. Mason made a noise and burped, spitting up on the rag on his shoulder.

“eyyy, there ya go, little guy. that’s better, eh?” He adjusted to remove the rag and hold Mason’s weight on one arm as he fished for his phone in his pocket. “now let’s check on mommy, huh?”

“Daaa….daaa…” He babbled, and Sans chuckled.

“nah, man, mommy. mama. callin’ mom.”

“Dadaaa!” Mason insisted, swinging his hands wildly to pat his face.

“hey, man, ain’t nobody here called…” His sockets widened and the phone dropped from his hand. He swiftly held Mason up to eye level to look at him. “wha...what’d you say, kid?!”

Mason blinked at him, and then he smiled happily, reaching out his hands to grab at him.

“Dada! Dada!” He squealed happily. Sans laughed, short and loud, stopped to stare at him, and then he laughed again, swinging the baby around in a semicircle as he chuckled in disbelief.

“ha! s’right, kid, that’s me. ain’t nobody else need callin’ that. fuck, you’re talkin’ now...guess i need to watch my language.”

He couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest as he listened to Mason babble the word over and over again, his big blue eyes staring straight into Sans’ soul.

“Dada?” Mason cooed, placing his hands on Sans’ face experimentally, poking him in the eyesocket, pulling at his teeth. Sans didn’t care, too busy beaming at the little thing.

“s’right, buddy, i’m dad alright.” He practically sang, nuzzling the tiny human’s face with his. He’d never felt so good about a single word in his entire life. “i wish i was your real dad. your real dad’s an ass.”

“Azzzz!”

“oops. no, don’t repeat that.”

“Dada?”

“yeah, stick with that one.” He chuckled. The sound of the key in the lock caught his attention. “alright, kid, showtime! let’s show mama your new trick!”

“Sans, I’m--oh!” You stopped just short of running directly into him as you stepped inside, and when you regained your head, you observed his delighted face. “...what’s going on?”

“check it out, babe! hey, kid, what am i?” He asked your son, pulling him up farther on his arm. You looked at him like he was crazy. Mason can’t talk yet.

“Uhm, Sans, Mason can’t ta--”

“no, seriously, he was just doin’ it. c’mon, dude, tell mama what i am.”

Mason stuck his fingers in his mouth, covering them thoroughly in slobber as he gurgled a response you had to strain to hear.

“Azz. Azz. Azz!”

Silence.

You clapped a hand over your mouth at Sans’ disgruntled face, unable to hold back the manic giggle that escaped you. You were still laughing as you removed the baby from his arms.

“Th-that wasn’t very nice, Mason!” You stuttered between laughs.

“really, dude? why ya gotta do that to me? i swear that wasn’t what he was sayin’.” He explained pleadingly as you moved past to place your bags and purse on the table.

“Oh, no? Mason, tell Mama what Sans is?”

“Azz!”

You laughed again in spite of his scowl. “Wh-what was that, baby boy?”

“Azz!”

“not cool, man,” he chastised Mason, which only served to make it funnier to you.

“Hey, whose fault is it, Mr. Sailor Mouth?” You teased, leaning up to kiss him. He returned the kiss with a small grumble, his scowl melting into a grin as he hummed against your lips. You heard Mason make a noise, and you elected to ignore it.

Sans didn’t, breaking away with stars in his eyes.

“there! that! did you hear him?” He turned to Mason in your arms. “say it again, little man!”

You were about to roll your eyes, but stopped in your tracks as you finally heard it.

“Dada!”

You turned a surprised stare on your son, who reached out to Sans with both hands, repeating “Dada! DADA!” as Sans whooped in excitement, gathering the little bean in his arms to hug him gently.

“ya heard it? ya heard?” The stars were back as he turned to regard you, grinning wider than you’d ever seen. “good job, buddy, lookit ‘er face, she’s speechless.”

You were. You brought your hands to your mouth in surprise.

“Sans…”

“yeah, babe?” He barely looked up from where he was bouncing Mason in his arms.

“You’re...okay with that? Him calling you Dad?”

He paused, looking over at you with a hurt expression.

“of course i am...are, uh...are you?”

You sucked in a breath, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“hey, woah, uh, sorry...he doesn’t have to if ya hate it that much…” He sounded so crushed by the idea, and you quickly shook your head, turning to rummage through the bag you’d brought home to produce the card you’d picked up.

He traded you the baby for the card you were holding, still not sure exactly what was going on or why you were crying. As he opened the envelope, his soul plummeted to his stomach at the idea that maybe you didn’t want him as Mason’s father, that you were…

…

Oh.

He read it. He reread it. And again. Then he laughed slightly, rereading it a fourth time.

 

_ Becoming a father is easy enough, but being a daddy can be very rough. _

_ As I grow up with you, I’ll never be scared, ‘cause I know that my daddy is always prepared. _

 

_ Sans-- _

_ Mason and I have been blessed with an amazing man--you. I’m so grateful to have you as a part of our life. _

_ Happy Father’s Day _

_ Love, _

_ Y/N and Mason _

He dropped the card, closing the distance between you two immediately, kissing you hard before moving to shower you both with kisses, muttering thank you’s over and over again before he stopped, took Mason in his arms, and looked down at the small one with adoration bursting from every seam of his being.

“who...who am i?” He asked quietly.

Mason smiled wide, giggling as he babbled his answer.

“Dada!”


	16. Sugar Baby Red: Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You reminisce with yourself on your past with Sans, and Sans snoops around trying to figure it out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really very sorry that it took so long to do more of this.   
> I don't know why it did, because I've known exactly what I would write for a long time???  
> In any case, here's more backstory to Sugar Baby Red!

You’d only been there to die.

Nobody returned from Mt. Ebott, or so the stories said. Monsters dwelled there, evil and violent, devouring humans that passed through. And hey, you were 21 and going nowhere fast, running from a past you can’t escape. And so, you’d gone to be devoured by monsters….

...only you hadn’t expected to fall in love with one.

But here you were, six months since you’d fallen underground, finding solace from an unforgiving world in the arms of a skeleton monster with a foul mouth. 

Somehow it had all...worked out. He’d managed to get his brother on his side, and with his protection you were free to roam without fear. Sans loved you with an excitable passion that even he didn’t expect, despite the myriad of scars across your thighs that marked your self-hatred. And you were the happiest person you could imagine, spending each day tangled up in the sheets with a monster who loved you more than any human ever had...even yourself.

* * *

_ “Do you think you’ll ever get to the surface?” _

_ “mmm. maybe one day. why, miss it?” _

_ “Just the sun, a little. Everything else isn’t worth bragging about.” _

_ “you came from there, and i brag about you all the time~♡” _

_ “Hehe, shut up you romantic moron.” _

_ “never.” _

* * *

You looked over at Sans as he chopped the grilled chicken into tiny pieces. He’d offered to help you cook dinner tonight, saying he felt like a freeloader...to which you responded that he was a sugar baby, duh. In any case, he’d weaseled into the kitchen with you in spite of your protests. Your eyes ran over his appearance. The crack in his skull was the only physical sign that it had been seven years since your time underground. He was more crass, a little more self-deprecating. He had darker humour, and a sense of loss about him. A far cry from the happy-go-lucky, excitable scientist you once knew. He was different. Apathetic, almost.

Papyrus said the day after you left, Sans woke up with that apathetic attitude. Even though he didn’t remember you, he felt something was always missing and it had affected him. He quit working at the lab with Alphys, took up a sentry position that he never took seriously. He napped all the time, he was more easily angered. He lashed out at Papyrus, and...well, the crack in his head and the scars on Papyrus’ skull was from when he’d legitimately tried to dust his brother. The taller skeleton had had to put his foot down, and a scary face on to keep him under control after that.

It hurt.

It hurt so bad to know the pain you’d caused him just because you’d had to go.

* * *

_ “didja ever think life would turn out this way? in my arms, a monster, in a world full of magic murderers?” _

_ “Hmm...the magic part was surprising.” _

* * *

“hello? ey, sugar mama.”

Sans leaned over to look at you, but you were lost in your own little world with that sad look on your face, letting the water from the sink beat down on your hands with no indication that you were going to stop it. He sighed, putting his knife down and wiping his hands with the towel on his shoulder.

As he moved behind you, pulling your hips closer to his, he wondered not for the first time what was going on inside your head.

“hey, hot mama, what’s on your mind?” He muttered against your hair, nuzzling the back of your head affectionately. His hand brushed against the side of your neck...normally this was a weakness of yours...but right now, for some reason, you tensed up, dropping the utensil in your hands with a squeak. He immediately backed off and held his hands up, afraid he’d done something out of line. You took a moment to retrieve the whisk, composing yourself, before stuttering an excuse and shoving the thing into his hands, fleeing the room.

He watched you go with confusion. What had he done?

* * *

_ “hey, hot mama, what’s on your mind?” _

_ “Mmmm...just thinking about the surface again. Do you think people will let us be together when we get up there?” _

_ “why not?” _

_ “We can't even handle different shades of skin without prejudice. You don’t even HAVE skin. I'm worried they’d try to hurt you.” _

_ “please, babe, nothin’ can hurt me as long as i’ve got you by my side. look, here's my stats. see? highest HoPe in the underground, baby.” _

_ “....I guess it’s silly to worry about it, then.” _

* * *

He was staring at it again, he knew it. The thick necklace you always wore, a ribbon tied around your neck. You never let him take it off, not even during sex. He’d never been lucky enough to catch you without it. He hadn’t given it much thought until the other day when you’d ran off after he brushed it with his fingers.

You were sleeping soundly, making little faces as you dreamt. He watched your face screw up in pain and he held his breath for the fallout. Sometimes...sometimes you woke up screaming, nightmares that rivaled his own plaguing your sleeping mind. You refused to let him comfort you, usually, and he only understood that it was about that person he reminded you of.

But it didn’t stop him this time. It didn't stop him from trying to hold you when you started whimpering, eyes snapping open as you cried out. You gasped, straining against his arms, and when your coherence returned, you looked at him with a wild desperation, locking eyes.

You froze.

He’d never held you this long after a nightmare before. Usually by now you’d pushed him off and ran to the bathroom to cry, but now you were clutching the sleeves of his t-shirt as the tears filled your eyes.

“Sans...you’re here…” You choked out, one hand cupping his cheekbone.

“every night, sweetheart.” He reassured you, drawing you closer. For some reason, this made you cry harder, burying your face in his shirt. He was puzzled, but tried to push his confusion back and focus on holding you tight.

He had no idea you’d been dreaming about his death.

* * *

_ “heh...hey sweetheart, whatcha lookin’ so glum for?” _

_ “S...Sans…” _

_ “shhhh hey, hey, stop...stop cryin’. i toldja, highest HoPe in the...underground...right?” _

_ “Sans, your body...it’s…” _

_ “heh. better get out the v-vaccuum, looks like it’s time for some spring...cle...cleaning…” _

_ “yOu CAn't SaVE HiM. HE iS JuST a Cccopyy.” _

_ “hey, evil me is...kinda...ugh...kinda a douche, eh sweethe...fuck…” _

_ “D-don’t move! I’ll...I’ll go get Papyrus, he can heal you!” _

_ “i wanted to see the stars with you.” _

_ “You will!” _

_ “...wanted to grow old with you, too.” _

_ “You still can!” _

_ “wanted to at least nail ya...one...more time. make some...babybo...nes...with ya…s...someday...ngah...m’not movin’ too fast for ya, am i, babe?” _

_ “...No, no, of course not.” _

_ “HE WilL DiE.” _

_ “ah, shaddup, asshole.” _

* * *

“hey, can i ask you somethin’?”

Papyrus fumbled the dish he was holding, catching it swiftly before it could break.

“UGH! DO NOT SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT, YOU IMBECILE!”

“sorry, boss.” Sans shrugged. “anyway, i wanted to  ask ya somethin’. do you remember the first day i woke up with 1 hp?”

“YES, I REMEMBER. YOU THREW YOUR BREAKFAST ON THE GROUND AND SCREAMED AT ME.” Papyrus looked at him pointedly. “I WAS 16. IT WAS THE FIRST BREAKFAST I EVER TRIED TO MAKE YOU.”

“...and the last.”

“IS THERE A POINT TO THIS CONVERSATION? OTHER THAN BRINGING UP PAINFUL MEMORIES, I MEAN.”

Sans ran a hand over his skull with a sigh. “just doesn’t add up. one day my stats are off the charts, then the next i’m so fragile i could die from a strong wind. but nothing else was different.”

His brother seemed to stiffen, clenching his fists on the edge of the sink. “I DON’T THINK YOU SHOULD QUESTION IT. THINGS HAPPEN, SANS.”

“yeah, but over 2,000 HoPe disappearing permanently overnight? damn. i just...feel like i’m forgettin’ somethin’. somethin’ important.”

Papyrus sighed, tapping his mandible thoughtfully. He turned to cast him a glance over his shoulder. “WHY BRING THIS UP NOW? IT’S BEEN SEVEN YEARS.”

“ah, no reason i guess…” Sans clutched his shirt absently, just above his soul. 

Yeah, no reason except that his HoPe was suddenly steadily increasing.

* * *

_  “I’m sorry, human, but I can’t help you. Error’s deletion can’t be undone.” _

_ You fell to your knees, pulling Sans’ jacket closer to your frame as the tears assaulted your cheeks. _

_ “Why?!” You cried, groping for the hem of his shirt. The ink-spattered skeleton hesitated as you clutched him, and rested a hand in your head in empathy. “It isn’t fair! He didn’t do  anything ! He didn’t deserve it!” _

_ “Error doesn’t care about right or wrong, he only cares about deleting what he deems to be ‘glitches’ and ‘copies’. I’m...I’m sorry for your loss.” _

_ “N...no! No, you have to...you have to do something! You said you could fix it when you got here, didn’t you? You can’t let him disappear, he’s innocent!” _

_ “...a yellow soul of justice. I can see you won’t be convinced.” He sighed, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him. “I might be able to do something, but...he wouldn’t remember you. That’s the price you’d pay.” _

_ “We’d...have to start over?” _

_ “No, not start over. You’d have to leave. You coming underground is the anomaly that drew Error’s attention...no, don’t blame yourself, sweet muse. These things happen.” _

_ You felt as if your breath was being stolen as he drew a yellow cloud from your mouth. Your head snapped back, gasping as the color swirled over his fingertips. _

_ “I’ll borrow some of the color from your soul to paint him new. That way I can get his image right. Let’s see...I can give him a golden tooth for your golden color.” _

_ You watched in awe as he drew the large paintbrush from his back, colored ink swirling around the bristles alongside the golden hue that you had produced. Tears filled your eyes as Sans appeared before them as the skeleton swiped the brush left and right. _

_ He fell into your arms with a groan, his new golden tooth glinting in the low light of the cavern. You clutched him close, lip quivering as you disbelievingly held him close once again. _

_ “Sans...Sans?” You looked back at the painter in confusion. “He won’t wake up!” _

_ “He will wake in the morning, once you are gone. I’ll give you ten minutes to say goodbye and explain to his brother...but he must never remember you, or else Error will return to finish the job. Do you understand?” _

_ You nodded solemnly, placing your hand on Sans' shirt, just above his soul. You could feel it humming, resonating in the mark on the back of your neck. _

_ “Here…” The painter reached out, drawing a ribbon from thin air, offering it to you. “The mark will give you away if you should meet again on the surface.” _

_ “He’s going to make it to the surface?!” You asked, shocked, as his nimble fingers tied the ribbon in place. _

_ He smiled at you as he withdrew. “Five years from now. You may start anew then...but he still can’t know of anything down here.” _

_ You nodded vigorously choking back the happy sobs that were wracking your body. You didn’t have to be without him forever. You still had a chance. _

_ Justice can still be served. _

* * *

You stared at your phone, flipping through the pictures. It was only 4:45, too early to leave the office. But you had no motivation to push paper as you thought of the day you lost him seven years ago.

It was almost unbearable. To have him in your arms again, to see him every day, to feel his touch on your skin once more...and yet…

You brushed your fingers over the image of his face as he kissed your cheek in front of the Snowdin town sign. He’d never remember that that was the first time he ever kissed you. He’d never know that you’d had the most epic snowball fight at that time. He would never remember how you both went home that day and immediately caught colds, forcing poor Papyrus to care for you both. You can still hear him yelling at you to stay in bed when you tried to sneak upstairs to Sans’ room. Eventually he got tired of chasing the two of you around and stuck you both in Sans’ room to make it easier.

You had thought you’d never see him again. Even when monsters came to the surface, you waited two years until you had the courage to find him, so afraid of what you might find.

So afraid that he wouldn’t still want you...so afraid, in fact, that you set up the whole sugar baby setup just to be sure he would stay.

You gasped audibly as you were suddenly overtaken with the realization that the love of your life, raised from the fucking dead, was waiting for you to come home. 

_Right now_.

You nearly broke your finger as you slammed the intercom to call your assistant.

“Gloria! Cancel any appointments for the rest of the day, I’m going home early!”

* * *

He was totally snooping today. It was only 5:00, you wouldn’t be home for at least an hour, and he needed to figure this out.

Nothing added up. His HoPe, the pictures on your phone, the way that Papyrus talked so familiarly with you, as if you were old friends. Add that to the hollow feeling in his soul that he’d had for seven years...and it’s sudden disappearance...something just wasn’t right. 

You and Paps were hiding something, and he needed to know what.

Nothing on your computer, or in your drawers (save for a very interesting pair of panties that he was definitely going to bring up later). After snooping all around the house, he was beginning to think your phone was the only thing that had any evidence.

Just as he was about to hatch a plan to get your phone from you, his monster hearing picked up the sound of the key in the lock, and he panicked. It was only 5:30! What were you doing home so early?!

He teleported into the foyer just as the door swung open, coming face-to-face with you and mustering the best surprised look he could. It wasn’t hard--he really was surprised.

“hey, sweetheart, you’re ear--oof!” He was cut off when you barreled into him, knocking the wind out of his ribs with your hug. He quickly returned the hug, confusion taking a backseat to affection and nurture as he felt your sobs shaking your frame. “woah, hey, shhh...what’s the matter?”

“Sans…” You sobbed against the soft fabric of his shirt. “I...I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here. I don’t think I could let you go.”

“you don't have to, jeez. what’s gotten into you?” He sighed, patting the back of your head affectionately. “what’s the sugar baby motto, again? ‘you’re payin’, i’m stayin’?”

You laughed in spite of yourself, and he grinned. He didn’t know what you were hiding, but whatever it was it was seriously affecting you. 

Maybe he should just...do his damn job and keep your mind off it.

“so, uh, sugar mama...were you plannin’ on sharing those panties with the little bow on 'em with me at some point? or did i snoop through your undies for nothin’?”


	17. Great and Terrible Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus has been killing his soulmates for centuries to stay young. He can handle doing it one more time...right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Def based off that one writing post about people not aging until they meet their soulmate so they can grow old together.  
> Edgelord WOULD be the guy to do this.

It’s a well known fact that monsters don’t age from their peak physicality until they meet their soulmate. This means, incidentally, that monsters live long lifespans as long as they don’t meet their soulmate.  Some monsters have known their soulmates their entire lives, and some don’t meet them for hundreds of years. Others still fall in between the two.

And then there was Papyrus...who killed his soulmate in order to live forever.

He’d been rather proud of the plan when he’d first hatched it when he was young. As powerful as he was, it seemed a waste to allow something as trivial as  _ romance _ get in the way of his plans. When the human fell, Papyrus found her, cold, alone, and scared. He thought she looked like an angel, and something in his soul started to sing…

He murdered her on the spot, slicing the feeling away as swiftly as it came. The grief assaulted his soul for days, but he was stronger than that. He fought off the dust, shaking the feeling away. Over the decades, his indomitable youth helped him gain power, as he cut down anyone who stood in his way until he sat atop the throne as the Bloody King, his brother at his side.

It should have been smooth sailing, but she came back. This time she was older, in her late 20s, and his soul began to sing that cursed tune until he ended her life with a precise bone strike. Clean. Painless. The grief was dark, but easier to manage this time.

For centuries he danced this dance. He thought he rid himself of her tainted love, and she would always come back, forcing his hand once again. It became clear to him that she remembered the past, to an extent, as sometimes she fought, and other times she bowed her head in silent acceptance.

It worked for him. He didn’t mind having to repeatedly put her down. He had his brother, after all, and his kingdom. Who was he to feel incomplete when his power was unquestionable?

Even after they made it to the surface, and his kingdom grew small as monsters traveled out of his reach...he still had his brother. He’d be able to live without love.

As long as he had Sans.

“hey, boss...i got somethin’ to tell ya…”

Papyrus looked down from his throne as his brother leaned against it. “WHAT IS IT, YOU FOOL?”

“well, ya know how i always thought i didn’t have a soulmate? i mean, it’s been centuries, i never had any delusions that i’d ever have one.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, a small smile working across his skull.

“YES, IT MAKES YOU THE PERFECT COMPANION FOR MY RULE. WHY?”

“...i met ‘er today.”

Silence filled the throne room as Sans stared at his shoes nervously. Papyrus stared at him, teeth clenched as he tried to appear unflustered.

“DID YOU KILL HER?”

Sans sighed, pushing off the throne and glancing back at his brother.

“couldn’t do it. sorry, boss, guess i’m just too weak.” He said with a shrug. He was prepared for Papyrus’ hand to grab his collar, dragging him back sharply with a snarl, and when the fearsome skeleton tried to search his brother’s face for weaknesses, he saw only determination. 

He scoffed, tossing the shorter skeleton away from him. “FINE. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT.”

He didn’t mean it, and Sans knew that. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders as he tried to hide the emotion on his skull.

"YOU'RE GOING TO LEAVE ME ALL ALONE?!" He sobbed, crossing his arms defiantly in his brother's grasp. Sans could only sigh, nuzzling his little brother's skull with affectionate melancholy.

“...i’m sorry, paps. i really am.”

* * *

You woke with a gasp, another nightmare about death plaguing your sleep-hazed mind. It was always the same, yet different. Every dream, you were dressed in different period-style clothing, but the same skeleton monster would end your life immediately. It was so strange, especially since, until recently, you can’t recall ever seeing a skeleton quite like that anywhere in your entire life.

The dreams...They’d gotten so violently vivid in the last few years, ever since you caught a glimpse of the king of monsters--Papyrus, they'd called him--on the news when they’d first emerged. For some reason, you weren’t afraid of him--you were enraptured.

And today was the day you’d find him.

Your legs were like Jell-O as you boarded the plane, as you landed, as you called for a taxi.

Your heart pounded as you approached the embassy, knowing full well that you could die the second you entered the hall. But you had an advantage over those times in your dreams, something that would make him pause.

This time, you knew his name.

* * *

Papyrus paced the hall, an anxious feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. He’d met his brother’s soulmate this morning, felt the happiness radiating from his bones as he introduced them to each other. He’d never seen Sans smile like that, never in his life.

Was love that great a thing? Was it really so amazing that even his lazy, good-for-nothing brother could look like _that?_   If even his brother could be that happy, then what of him, in all his infinite power?

He stopped in his tracks as he felt the familiar thumping in his chest. His sockets widened in panic.

Now?! Of all the times for his soulmate to show their face, they were to come  _ now _ ? When he was feeling weak? **Unguarded**?!

He summoned a bone, nearly fumbling it in his sweaty palms as his soul thumped loudly, obnoxiously.

He felt you before he heard you, and he loosed the bone. It embedded itself in the wall three inches from your face, making you squeak. He cursed himself for missing, shaking as he summoned the next bone, his soul beginning to sing that stupid tune again.

“P-Papyrus!” You shouted desperately, throwing your hands out in front of you to brush against his clothes. He tried to backpedal away, but he was too thrown off by the sweet sound of your voice as you cried out his name.

_ Thump thump _

He stepped back too shallow, his foot falling from underneath him.

_ Thump thump _

Your hands grasped his scarf, your body following his like a dance you didn’t know you knew.

_ Thump thump _

He crashed down to the floor hard, his arms closing around your shoulders to shield you in spite of himself.

_ Thump thump _

_ Thump-- _

He looked into your eyes, and everything just…

Stopped.

Your heart was pounding as you gazed into his sockets, the look of awe on his skull mirrored on your own face. He was so beautiful, so blindingly perfect in every way. You were dumbfounded, completely unable to form a word. He blinked, finding his voice first.

“F...FUCK YOU!” He shouted, making you blink in confusion and instinctively shrink back a few inches before you noticed his face light up in a deep orange flush, and he covered his mouth with his gloved hand. From behind his glove, he continued in a softer, yet just as harsh tone. “I was doing just fine until you came along to ruin it! Now I’m going to age and die, and it’s all your fucking fault!  _ Fuck! _ ”

“I...I’m really...not sorry. Like, at all.” You said honestly, shrugging sheepishly at him. “You...aren’t going to die right  _ now _ , are you?”

“...I suppose not.” He lowered his hand, the blush still marking his cheekbones. “Not unless you are to die right now yourself.”

You glanced pointedly at the sharpened bone in his other hand, and he gasped, throwing it away as if it had shocked him. He looked miserably sheepish as he avoided your gaze.

“So...why are you going to die because of me?” You prodded, leaning over to catch his eye. “Sorry...I’m new at...whatever  _ this _ is.”

“You just gestured to all of me.”

“Yeah.”

That seemed to catch him off-guard, and he actually laughed.

“If you must know, monsters start to age once they meet their soulmate. I had successfully avoided this up until now by ending my soulmates’ life. But you just keep coming back, like a persistent squirrel trying to eat all the bird seed out of the feeder.” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve made it extremely difficult to be powerfully immortal.”

Soulmate. You took a sharp breath as you realized that’s exactly what this was...this feeling of euphoria, the reason you were never scared of him despite how many times he killed you in your dreams.

“So that’s what those nightmares were about...my past lives.”

“It would not surprise me if you dreamed of them. You always seemed to recognize me, and know what was going to happen.” He gingerly laid a hand on your cheek. “...but this is the first time you’ve called my name. You threw me off, little human.”

Fuck. You were leaning into his touch like you were starved for affection, as if he was everything you needed to survive and more. You were making it so difficult to hate you. Impossible, even.

He withdrew his hand quickly, leaving you to lean heavily and teeter before you realized what happened.

“I will not apologize for my attempted murder, nor for my successful ones.” He said, crossing his arms petulantly.

You  _ giggled _ at that. He stared at you, mouth agape as you patted his cheekbone reassuringly, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his temple.

“What are you doing?!” He demanded, even as he leaned into the touch. “I-I just tried to kill you!”

“Well, we’re soulmates, right? So I forgive you.” You said, adjusting yourself in his lap and cupping his cheekbones. You held up a stern finger. “But! If you ever try it again, I’ll snap your damn femurs. Okay?”

He couldn’t help the smirk that was developing on his skull at your adorable threat, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning in to steal a kiss from your sweet lips. That’s his soulmate, alright.

And stars help him...he  _ loved _ you.


	18. Cheater: Drinks On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans gets some tough love from his friends.  
> You go on your first date with Papyrus.  
> How did we end up here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to kamiireru on Tumblr for the beautiful Cheater fanart she gave me this morning ♡♡♡

“YOU LOOK STUNNING.”

“You already said that,” you said with a giggle, pressing the wine glass against your lips. Papyrus smirked at you from across the table, leaning nonchalantly against his own fist.

“WELL, SHOULDN'T THE TRUTH BE REPEATED UNTIL IT IS BELIEVED?” He mused, taking a sip of his own wine. “I'VE NEVER HAD THE FREEDOM TO COMPLIMENT YOU IN SUCH A STRAIGHTFORWARD WAY.”

You supposed that was true. And besides, you were blushing something fierce. Sans...well, he wasn't shy about compliments, but they weren't nearly as classy as the words you'd been hearing tonight. Sans was more likely to make a comment about taking you to “pound town”, or how hot you looked. Papyrus’ compliments used words like “stunning”, “radiant”, “breath-taking”...it was different. 

You weren't sure how you felt about it. 

On one hand, the change of pace was nice. A fancy restaurant, a reason to wear a dress that cost more than $10. It wasn't as if Sans never took you to nice places--It was just that it was usually saved for birthdays or other special occassions, not Tuesday nights just because.

On the other hand, one of the reasons you loved Sans was because of his low-key attitude and crass personality. You weren't exactly a princess, and you preferred a good burger over...whatever you'd ordered here.

Still, you can't expect Papyrus to be the same as Sans, not by a long shot. They were very different people, a fact you had observed a long time ago.

“YOU'RE VERY QUIET. ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT SANS?”

“...Am I that transparent?”

Papyrus sighed and put his glass down, reaching over to take your hand. “IT'S LIKE YOU SAID. IT ISN'T GOING TO JUST GO AWAY. HOWEVER, HE HAS NO PLACE AT THIS TABLE, NOT RIGHT NOW. THIS IS ABOUT US.”

“You're right, I'm sorry, Pap.” You smiled, cocking your head to the side just slightly. He tightened his hand around yours. You were simply gorgeous, and sweet. He hated seeing you in pain, especially when he couldn't really do anything to fix it. He had to let you make your own decisions, even if it broke him in the end, because otherwise he's no better than his idiot brother.

“DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR FEELINGS.” He said sweetly, releasing your hand. He relished how yours followed just slightly, trying to keep contact. He chuckled. Maybe this evening wouldn't end up a bust after all.

* * *

**You are** **_incredibly_ ** **stupid.**

“thanks for the update,” Sans scoffed, downing his glass of whatever the fuck Grillby was serving him now. Did he even want to see his tab at the end of the night?

Frisk sighed from the seat next to him taking another sip of their coke.  **You need to hear it, because I don't think you realize it yet.**

“really? ‘cause where i’m sittin', i'm pretty certain i do.”

**Repeat to me what your problem is again?** The teen prodded.

“my  _ problem _ is that  _ my girl _ is out on a date with my  _ brother--” _

_ Smack! _

“fuck! what the fuck was that for, ya fuckin’ psycho?!” Sans swore, rubbing the fresh slap spot on his cheekbone.

“Because that's not your problem, ya dumbass,” Undyne snorted from his other side.

“nobody asked you, fishstick,” he growled.

**She's right. That's not the problem.** Frisk agreed, crossing their arms.  **Try again.**

“uh...my problem is that...she moved out of my room?  _ oof--”  _ He groaned as Undyne hit him with a sharp elbow in the ribs. “that she won't talk to m--hey! stop hitting me!”

He scrambled up from his seat and turned on Undyne, ready for a fight, when suddenly a warm hand caught his wrist.

“Sans…” Grillby sighed, applying just enough gentle pressure to force him back into his seat. The skeleton watched the elemental skeptically. “Think hard. All of those things you are experiencing are direct result of the  _ real problem _ .”

"ain't my friends supposed to be on my side?" He grumbled.

Undyne rolled her visible eye. " _Nobody_ is on your side, idiot."

**So...what is it? The real problem?** Frisk poked him sternly in the collarbone, and he looked around at his friends who were staring intensely at him as Grillby released him.

His shoulders slumped, and he dropped his head into his hands. He could still feel their eyes as his realization dawned on him, and he sobbed into his bones. His beautiful, amazing, wonderful human girlfriend that he loved more than anything in the world was out on a date with his brother, wouldn't even talk to him, and moved out of his bedroom...all because...

“...i  _ cheated _ .”

* * *

“DID YOU ENJOY YOURSELF, MY DEAR?” Papyrus cooed softly as he helped you into your coat. He enjoyed the lingering feeling of your skin as he brushed the article over your shoulders. You gave him a tired smile, and he tipped your face up so he could give you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“...I did.” You said finally, as he steered you out the door and into the snow. “It was really nice to spend some time with you.”

His arm draped over your shoulder was comforting, and you enjoyed the contact. You'd never had a chance to be like this with him...but it was almost unbearable, as every time you looked at the bony hand on your shoulder, you imagined it was Sans’ for a split second, and that was...well, it brought up confusing feelings.

“Did  _ you  _ enjoy yourself, Pap?” You asked distractedly.

“IT WAS A SUITABLE DATE, I SUPPOSE, IF ONLY FOR THE COMPANY.” He winked at you, and you felt your face flush. He was so good to you...why did you even consider forgiving Sans still? You...might still have to cut your losses and just leave.

_ Ding! _

Papyrus paused while you did, watching you search your coat for your phone. He didn't like the frown across your face as you read the message. He knew exactly what was coming.

* * *

How many drinks had he had? He'd lost count.

“hey chillby, gimme ‘nother,” he slurred, holding his empty glass out. Grillby took it, indigo flames licking his hand as they brushed.

“I'm cutting you off.” he said bluntly, turning to put the glass away.

“huh?” His face screwed up in confusion. “you've  _ never  _ cut me off.”

“You've never drank 14 drinks in the course of an hour and a half before,” the elemental snorted in response. “If I allow this to continue, you'll be dust on my barstool...and I hate sweeping.”

“s’not like dusting would be so  _ bad. _ ” He mumbled, resting his chin on the bar. “...after all, i’m just a good-for-nothing cheating bastard with shitty judgement...which is ironic, since i’m the judge.”

He pointed up at his old friend with an accusatory glare.

“d’you even  _ know _ how many fuckin’ monsters i’ve dusted? little fuckin’ pricks thinkin’ they better than me, well guess what!....they  _ were _ .” He growled, eyelights growing dim as he leaned back and clutched his shirt. Grillby could see it, the cracks in his soul...as self-inflicted as they were, it still hurts him to see his friend that way. Before Grillby could stop him, he grabbed the empty glass Frisk had left, smashing it against his skull. “i’m nobody without her, man! useless dust held together with magic...might as well not exist!”

“Then you should have stayed faithful,” Grillby growled at him, snatching the remains of the glass from him and darting out a rag to stem the flow of marrow from the fresh cut. When he'd cleaned him, he lit the rag aflame in anger, grabbing Sans by the front of his shirt. “Suck it up, you worthless cretin! Admit your mistakes and amend them! I'll not have you sour my bar with you useless, lazy mantra again, and you will not destroy my property!”

“y-you wanna go, chillbz?” Sans asked, shoving the elemental’s hand away, baring his teeth and wobbling off his stool to remove his coat. “c’mon! i’ll turn ya to ashes! lessee that thousand year-old bullshit you call magic, old man!”

“SANS, STOP IT.”

He relaxed immediately at his brother's voice. Was he about to fight? Why? Probably has to do with that empty feeling and his swimming head. Papyrus’ strong hands supported him as he swayed.

“bro, bro...hey man...y...you know that...you’re the best, right?” He slurred, hands grasping at his brother's clothing in an attempt to bring himself upright. “you’re so fuckin’ cool, dude, n’i love ya so much.”

“HOW MUCH DID YOU LET HIM DRINK?” His voice sounded so scandalized as he deposited Sans into the chair next to him.

“m’fine, bro...only had like…” He brought his fingers up to count, but they looked double and it made his head hurt. Papyrus wasn't even listening as he turned to settle the tab and berate Grillby. “dunno. 14?”

“Sans…”

His soul leapt at the sound of your voice, and when your beautiful face appeared before him, he could feel his eyelights making hearts.

“babygirl...you came all the way here for me?” He cooed drunkenly, trying to lean forward and touch you. He ended up reeling and falling against you, and you supported his weight, albeit stiffly. “oh, sweetheart...i think i did somethin’ bad. i was so angry...but you...you're the light of my life, did you know? how do you put up with dis bag o’ bones anyway?”

“...it's becoming increasingly difficult.”

He didn't know what that meant but he didn't care. He wrapped his arms around your waist and laid his head on your chest--perfect height from his chair. He felt you tense up under his touch, but...why?

_...Oh. _

“...s’a nice dress, sweetheart…” He said sadly, disentangling himself from you as he remembered what he came here to forget. You sighed, leaning down to pick up his sweatshirt from where he'd thrown it down. He sat limply while you helped him into it.

“I can't believe you,” you breathed quietly, cupping his cheekbones gently to inspect the cut on his face. “Saying you'd rather dust than be without me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

He didn't remember saying that...but he regretted it anyway. The pain in your voice was evident. His sockets slid shut as he leaned into your touch, tears slowly escaping him.

“you’re s’posed to say you love me,” he said quietly.

Silence as you wiped away the offending marrow from his wound. Then…

“Of course I do, stupid. I just don't forgive you...Come on, let's go home.” You muttered, and you helped him up off the chair. He felt his brother lift him into his arms, and he curled into him, remembering vaguely that he's supposed to be mad at him for some reason...oh, well.

It can wait until morning, whatever it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we see Sans starting to realize that he's just...wrong. It's sinking in, and perhaps this is the start of some kind of growth?  
> And the only reason Reader agreed she loved him is because she knows he won't remember it in the morning.


	19. Cheater: Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans attempts an apology...it only goes somewhat badly.

How many flowers were too many?

He wasn’t sure when exactly he had crossed the line, but he certainly had at some point. Sans stared at the surplus of roses, lilies, tulips, and other various flowers that were strewn about his room. They at least covered up the terrible mess he’d made of the room a few weeks ago when it had all began, but the fragrance was overpowering to say the least. No, you would probably run screaming if he shoved this many flowers at you.

He cursed under his breath as he began to pick and choose, arranging them how you like them.

You were on another date with Papyrus. This time he’d taken you to see that new clown movie you’d been so excited about. Sans frowned, thinking about how he would have wanted to see it with you instead, followed by the guilty feeling. That guilty feeling had become quite at home in his chest, stretching to fill the cracks in his soul from the night you moved out of his room. It threatened to suffocate him, but he didn’t dare try to squash it. He had never had trouble telling himself he deserved bad things, but the possessiveness of his nature made it difficult to overcome the thought that you were _his_ , that he deserved you no matter what because you were his own, his marked, his human...the guilt grounded him. Reminded him that you were hurting because of him.

If he hurt this much, you must be hurting so much worse. He had _cheated_ on you, he reminded himself, forcing himself to think the word as loudly as he could. Cheated. Cheater. He was a cheater. Throwing aside your feelings for one drunken fuck in a fit of half-cocked revenge for something you didn’t even do.

His phone pinged, and he was surprised to see that it was you. It’s probably the first time you had directly contacted him since the...since _that_ night, save for that night at Grillby’s you seemed to think he didn’t quite remember. He smiled slightly, sadly, as he placed his hand over his soul, thinking about the tidy lines that crossed it in place of some of the cracks, the wounds that had healed over just a little from the soft, saving grace of your words.

 

 **hotmama:** Movie is over, we’ll be home soon.

 

Simple, straight to the point, impossible to misread. You were carefully selecting your words to him, and he didn’t blame you. He was so starved for your attention, after all, that he’d probably take whatever you did or said to him and overanalyze it into oblivion and drive you absolutely insane.

Still, you didn’t have to say anything at all to him. You could have neglected to tell him that and he just would have figured it out when you showed up. So there’s something, at least, a silent invitation to finish up whatever he was up to. You always did know when he was up to something.

And he was, so he pocketed his phone (he didn’t know how to respond to that anyway) and got to work.

* * *

“WHAT I DON’T UNDERSTAND IS WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR SOMEBODY TO PICK UP A GODDAMNED _WEAPON,”_ Papyrus groaned, arm resting around your shoulders as he steered you down the street towards home. “WHY DOES NOBODY TRY TO FIGHT BACK UNTIL PEOPLE ARE DEAD? IN MY EXPERIENCE, ONE IS SUPPOSED TO _PREVENT_ DEATH BY FIGHTING!”

“That’s just how the trope goes, Pap,” you shrugged, slightly amused. Throughout the entire movie, he had grumpily complained about the characters’ lack of logic, praising only Bev for being able to stand on her own two feet like the badass she is.

He looked at you with startled offense. “WHAT IN THE WORLD IS A TROPE?”

You just laughed, drawing another grumble from his teeth as he held the door open for you to scoot inside. He moved on now to teasing you for your fear of Pennywise, and clowns in general, likening you to Richie in terms of how well you handled the scenes with the titular monster. You clapped back with how much he screamed at Eddie’s leper scenes, and how much he insisted on washing his (still gloved) hands afterwards. He tried to play it off, a small, telling blush hiding behind his confident smirk.

You have to say, in the two years you’ve known him, you’ve honestly never noticed how goddamned _adorable_ he was.

And as he pushed you down onto the couch, barely waiting for your affirmative noises before following closely, you were reminded of how _sexy_ he was, too. He stopped what might have almost been words, cutting the half-formed noise off with his mouth against yours, and it became instead a muffled groan. Hs smelled like the soap in the movie theater bathrooms, causing you to smile against his mouth before he slipped his tongue between your lips, drawing a small gasp.

Dating him had been kind of awkward so far. You found that you really didn’t know him all that well, and while it was exciting to learn new things in a new relationship, it was outside of your comfort zone. You knew Sans like the back of your hand, every kink, every favorite food, every little twitch of his skull and what it all meant...it was like music, like dancing, choreographed and beautiful and harmonious and--

Well. At least you had _thought_ you knew Sans so well.

And Papyrus...the only thing that seemed to harmonize was the sound of you both gasping for air as he pressed you into the couch.

His body you knew. Where he liked to be touched, what would make him shiver and call your name--that you understood. As he pressed a hand to your lower back, making you arch against him so he could draw a shiver from your spine as he traced it...well, you figured it must be the same for him.

But what makes him tick? What jokes does he laugh at but secretly hate? How many bags of his favorite candy should you let him eat before confiscating it? Oh, Lord, what even _is_ his favorite candy? Sans’ was skittles, and he would eat them until he exploded (or vomited rainbow, or both). What if Papyrus’ favorite candy had red dye in it like skittles? Sans always picked out the skittles with the red dye in them, or ordered them special so you didn’t get sick kissing him. Even though the cherry ones are his favorite.

“P-Papyrus...wait…” You gasped suddenly, and he froze with his hand halfway up your shirt. He lifted his head from where he had moved to kiss your clavicle, a look of confusion on his face. “What’s, uhm...this is gonna sound dumb, but what’s your favorite candy?”

He snorted in amusement, continuing to move his hand up your shirt, inching closer and closer to your bra.

“WARHEADS. WHY? IS THAT REALLY _ALL_ YOU CAN THINK ABOUT AT A TIME LIKE _THIS?_ ”

He emphasized his point by rolling his hips, grinding his arousal against you through the fabric of both your pants. He chuckled at the mewling noise that escaped you, and you cursed yourself for being so goddamned _thirsty_.

“No, no, uh...I’m just...just allergic to red food dye so…” You explained feebly. Your partner regarded you with a curious look.

“REALLY? I HAD NO IDEA. ARE YOU CERTAIN? I SWEAR I HAVE SEEN YOU EAT RED CANDIES BEFORE.”

“Well, I ate some once, when you put them in your lasagna one night.” You recalled. “I had to go to the hospital...remember?”

He made a face that seemed somewhere between thoughtful and guilty and you felt annoyance creep in. He didn't remember, even though you had to have Sans stab you with an Epi-Pen in front of him, and despite the fact that he had to drive the two of you to the hospital. Come to think of it, he’d left you both stranded there that next morning, waving off Sans’ request for a ride by saying he had plans. You had to walk home, much too unstable for a void-jump like Sans wanted, only to find him watching the new MTT cooking special in his pajamas.

He seemed to see the renewed frustration in your face and wilt a little. “I DO APOLOGIZE, MY DEAR, BUT I PROMISE THAT IT IS COMMITTED TO MEMORY FROM NOW ON. DO YOU HAVE ONE OF THOSE STABBY-THINGS I SHOULD KNOW ABOUT?”

Sigh. At least he realizes what a dick move his memory lapse is.

“Yeah, I keep it in my purse. Hold on...uh, get up a second.”

You push him up off you, much to his chagrin, and reach for your bag. If this idiot is going to be your datemate, you’ll need to teach him how to use it.

“It’s called an Epi-pen, and if I'm having a reaction--”

“you gotta take the cap off and stick it in ‘er thigh.” The Epi-pen left your hands as Sans appeared suddenly, inspecting the prescription. He looked up at the two of you, tapping the package pointedly. “but not this one, s’expired.”

“What? I thought I had three more months on that one!” You whine. Those things are expensive!

“no, you got three more months on the one we keep here.” Sans corrected, drawing your spare Epi-pen from the inside pocket of his jacket.

There is a sudden awkward silence as your eyes meet, and you both realize this is the most you've talked in weeks. He coughs and looks away, holding the spare out to Papyrus, who takes it gingerly in his gloved hand.

“uh. sorry. heard youse guys talkin’ about it, and i realized if you were gonna be around paps more than me, then uh...he should probably keep your spare.” He mumbled, staring intently at his sneakers now. “much as i don't like it, your uh...your safety comes first. obviously. not that it needed sayin’. uh…”

Papyrus was no help. The awkward tension could be cut with a knife, and all your current datemate could do was flick his gaze between your rapidly reddening face and Sans’ increasingly quiet speech.

“Thank you, Sans, that’s actually...really mature of you,” you managed to mumble, followed by an embarrassed giggle. “I, uh...gotta get new ones now anyway, though, so maybe...just in case...you should still keep one?”

His face lit up as his gaze shot back to inspect you, as if checking to see you really meant it. Sheesh, you were just being safe, not promising that you would spend a lot of time together...but you have to admit, the idea of him _not_ having one still fills you with anxiety.

“yeah, yeah i’ll do that swee...uh...y/n. in fact, i already ordered a new one from the pharmacy, should be in tomorrow. keep that one and i’ll keep the new one.” You didn't miss the strain in his voice when he stopped himself from using a pet name. His eyes flicked over to Papyrus’ heavy stare. “since we’re talkin’, though, uh...maybe we could talk alone for just a moment?”

Papyrus scoffed, rolling his eyelights.

“WHY WOULD SHE--”

“Sure, let’s go.” You interjected, surprising even yourself. Both Sans and Papyrus taped at you for a long moment before Sans finally broke into a nervous grin. He moved as if to offer his hand, then thought better of it, moving to scratch his skull and shrug towards the guest bedroom, his smile unsure but unwavering.

You gave Papyrus a reassuring pat and a smile of your own, and he reluctantly let you get up, allowing you to follow your ex (had you ever actually broken up?) unhindered.

* * *

“You didn't think this might be just a little too much?” You giggled nervously, casting a glance around the spare room that had become yours.

Flowers, flowers everywhere. There were several vases of them around the room, as well as individual ones and petals scattered about.

If it weren't so obviously a tactic to make up for an unforgivable act, it would probably be the most romantic thing he had ever done for you. He seemed to expect this train of thought, though, because in place of his usual grin there was still that downcast gaze and nervous smile.

“heh. you should see _our roo_...er, my room.” He chuckled awkwardly at his own correction, moving to sit on the mattress. He seemed surprised when you followed suit, sitting just far enough away to have no danger of touching, but still beside him.

God, you had never imagined you would be sitting in a bedroom with him like this. Silent. Awkward. Not even touching and with this...cloud overhead. You thought your mind would be racing, wondering what he might say and what you might say and how much of a chance there was that you both would be screaming as the vases turned into projectiles. You thought you would be gagging on the memory of that night, or crying already, or ice-cold and unfeeling.

But you weren't.

Sans watched you from the corners of his sockets, trying to gauge where your head was right now. You had lapsed into silence, a blank look on your face that still somehow portrayed concentration.

His smile twitched as he realized you looked like shit, almost as bad as he did, but with better makeup to cover it up. You were clearly not sleeping much, if the hollow look of your eyes was any indication, and despite the obvious glow emanating from the twin marks on either side of your clavicle, he could see that neither sets of magic had been doing you any favors. Papyrus’ scent was all over you, strong musk and pine, but there was a distinct air of pent up energy that suggested he had not yet consummated his mark. It should have made him happy to realize you hadn't _boned_ his brother since the incident, but it only compounded the guilty feeling inside.

He knows you. He knows his brother. He knows the sexual tension you both carry in your chests, your insatiable sexual appetites, how readily you would devour each other in front of him. You're holding back, you're scared that it will all go wrong...like it did with him.

“so how was the clown movie? piss your pants or just claw paps’ arm off?”

Well. That was not how he had originally planned to open this conversation, but he couldn't force anything else past his teeth but small talk.

You let out a snort, giggling at the ridiculous opener. “No, I didn't do either...but I did spend most of the movie with my hands over my eyes. Papyrus refused to hold me because he thought it was good training for real disaster.”

“pffft. he totally missed the point of bringing a date to a horror movie.”

“I know, right? He didn't even know what a trope was, let alone the specific ones used in horror films.”

“geez, what'd i tell ya? i’m the king of pop culture, babe.” You both blinked in surprise at the pet name, and he felt his face heat up as he stared intently at his shoes. “uh...jus’ slipped out. my bad.”

“No, no, it’d be...unrealistic for either of us to think you could drop the nicknames that fast. Don't worry about it.”

Felt nice, actually, you said only to yourself.

Felt nice, actually, he said only to himself.

“Uhm, anyway…” you urged quietly. “I’m sure you didn't really want to talk about the movie, soooo…”

“right. yeah.” He chanced a glance back up at you, drinking in your little blush as you fixed your gaze on the lamp. God, this was awkward. Only more so awkward because he had waited nearly three weeks to say something, anything, and it was torture because you were so close he could just reach out and...he was so terrible with apologies.

“listen, uh...you know i’m...not good with the whole apologies scene. just bear with me on the wording because i really suck at this…”

 _kinda like how i suck at being someone worthy of your attention_ , he thought.

Deep breath. Go.

“y/n...you know that i...well...i fucked up pretty badly. i mean, my whole existence is pretty fucked up to begin with and i’m lucky you ever looked at me in th'first place. monsters, you know, we do crazy things for our marked, stupid things. one time undyne broke into an anime artist dude’s house and forced her to draw a character like her into the show because she thought that al looked at the main character too long.” He chuckled, but there was no real humour in it, but rather nervousness as you continued to avoid his gaze. “n’i know it ain’t any kinda excuse but i was crazy, i _still am_ crazy about you and it made me so blind and i…”

He stopped and sighed, dragging a hand down over his skull, the scrape of bone on bone the only noise as he re-evaluated his speech.

You didn't give him the chance.

“Is this the part where you tell me you don’t want me to leave? Or to be with Paps? Because I'm not really even sure I'm--”

“no.”

You blinked at him, at his breathless, urgent response, at his fingers that were suddenly on top of yours, and you could see the blush on his skull as he sucked in a breath, the contact surprising him, too.

“uh, n-no. no. i'm not telling you any of that. in fact, it’s uh...the opposite.” He made a noise like he was clearing his throat. “i’m sayin’...i get it. what i did, sweetheart...man, i don’t wanna say never but it’s darn near impossible to come back from and i...i ain’t never been worth it. if paps makes you happy, if leavin’ makes you happy...if forgivin’ me makes you happy…”

He locked eyes with you, and you felt your throat tighten at the genuine concern on his face. He was telling you to do what was best for _you_ , and dammit if that wasn’t the strangest idea coming from him.

What must his pain feel like that he would be this way?

“anyway i suck with words, but…” His hand fluttered up to grab the front of his shirt. “uh...it’s all here...if you’re worried i’m lyin’...”

You knew what he was talking about, he could tell by the look on your face. It was pretty assumptive of him, thinking you might want to touch his soul, but he wasn't lying when he said it was all there. You could understand exactly how sorry he was and how much he loved you and how certain he was that it would never happen again, and all you had to do was touch his soul. You knew it, too, but touching a soul is so intimate that you were hesitating.

“I don’t think you’re lying…” You said slowly, hand absently pressing against your own sternum, over your soul. “You’ve never been able to lie to me.”

“true.” He shifted uncomfortably, staring down at your hands that were still joined atop the comforter.

Your fingers had curled around his so naturally that neither of you had noticed until now. He gave your hand a tentative squeeze, and after a moment’s hesitation, he felt the pressure returned gently. Such a small movement, but it was all he needed.

You didn't even blink as his soul appeared eagerly for you, bathing the small guest room with a significantly dimmer red light than normal.

Shit, he’d never actually looked at the cracks before, but as you gasped at the sight and choked back a sob, he realized with a start that it was a miracle he was still alive. Small hairline fractures traced from the middle of his soul outward, black and deathly like the grim reaper’s fingers gripping it. It looked awful, worse than he had ever seen it, and your horror was confirmation enough that you thought the same. In fact, your horror outweighed your hesitation because you reached out to cradle it in your free hand.

And then you were touching it, oh God, he wasn’t prepared at all for that _feeling._ You had touched it before, of course, but never like that, and never when he so desperately needed that touch. He hardly heard your gasping breaths as it all poured forward like a flood: pain, regret, sorrow, love, _wish i was dead dead dead…_

Never wanted this. Jealousy. Rage. Confusion. _knew you were too good for me_. Denial. Drunk, so drunk, drinking Grillby out of house and home and then feeling comfortable in Papyrus’ arms as he wondered if you would kiss him goodnight.

Acceptance. _just waste away_. Looking at you with Papyrus. You, you, your face, your hair, your skin, everything about you and he could feel his magic jerk and writhe inside him, a growl building in his chest. Then there was only one feeling.

 _mine_.

“S-Sans--!”

Your finger began to slip but his hand dragged your wrist back, flattening your palm against his soul. He gasped in tandem with you as the shock of the contact wriggled through his body and therefore through yours. You resisted half-heartedly, but you could feel how it was helping, could see as well as he could the cracks in his soul closing slowly.

 _mine. mine._ **_mine._ **

It was like a persistent knock from a neighbor at 3am--try as hard as you can but you can’t ignore it, and you know nothing good will come from answering the door...but you have to.

So he did, and he let his sockets slide closed as you curled your fingertips in just the right way, tracing his very being. He was sure somewhere you were calling his name, but he could barely hear it over the pounding in his chest, the heat trickling down his bones masking the ability to perceive anything outside of the way you felt.

He felt the band of self-control threaten to snap. He needed you to touch him more. He needed to touch you, to pour his magic into that mark until you were ready to burst, to claw his brother’s mark off your chest…

To love you…

Claim you…

**_d e v o u r   y o--_ **

“ _Sans!_ ”

Your panicked cry and the sting of your hand across his cheekbone brought him to his senses with a gasp and a shudder. He met your frantic eyes and felt his heart sink.

 _Fear_.

It was written plainly on your face. You were afraid of him. And why shouldn’t you be, he realized, when he looked at himself, pulsing with red tendrils of magic as he held you down beneath him, pinning you to the bed (when had that happened?) as his other hand seemed inches away from wrapping around your quivering soul where it hung in between you. He snatched his hand back and jolted away from you, pausing only to urge your soul back into your chest. When it was done, your arms folded across where it disappeared, and you looked so small, and meek, and frightened and God, he had never seen you that way before.

“Get off me...please…” You squeaked, and he jumped to obey, sliding off you as if you burned him.

“sweetheart, i...i’m so sorry...i can explain, i didn't mean to…” he stumbled over his words as the newly healed scars on his soul began to rupture once more. You shirked his reach, not in anger but in fear, and he swallowed heavily around the lump he now felt in his chest.

What the hell happened?! He had never lost control on you before, never like that, and the red magic wouldn't leave, it was burning his eyesocket. He grunted and dug the heel of his hand against it absently as you slowly collected yourself and sat up, fear melting away to an uncertain look, before understanding crossed your features.

When you asked him, he felt really stupid for not figuring it out sooner.

“Sans...are you in heat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's been a while. It will be very sparingly that I update anything that I write, mostly because I'm dealing with the apartment fire that took pretty much everything I owned and also my puppy, but also because I am having a hard time finding inspiration with all the stress.  
> I'm not even sure I like this chapter but it sets things up for later I guess. I'm not sure I know where my stories are going anymore lol.


	20. *Cheater: What Do You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with a simple question: "what do you think of y/n?"  
> And in the end, it turned into "What do you think of Sans?"
> 
> Papyrus spends the time you left him in the living room remembering the first night he spent with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content: cuckholding, taboo: brother's girl, p in v, ecto-dicks, masturbation, sexual punishment, voyeurism  
> Probably more stuff that I don't know the name of.  
> I feel like I'm spamming Cheater but it's practically the only thing on my mind creatively. Also, here we are, happy kinktober everyone (:

“hey paps, whaddya think of y/n?”

Papyrus spared a suspicious glance at his brother over his morning jumble puzzle. The older skeleton grinned back as he sipped his coffee nonchalantly. You, unsurprisingly, had not yet come down for breakfast. Considering the noises he heard coming from your shared bedroom early this morning, he supposed you were either in a coma or busy washing your sins away. Either way, it seemed to leave him a sitting duck for whatever strange interrogation Sans had for him today.

Sans had been asking a lot of questions lately, he realized. “what’s your type” and “would you ever consider x-y-z weird sex thing” kind of questions. It wasn't as if Papyrus was embarrassed of these questions, no...it was more that they often caught him off-guard and seemed like they were not exactly his brother’s business.

“YOU'RE ASKING  _ ME _ FOR AN OPINION ON A MATE  _ YOU _ CHOSE?” He finally answered with a scoff. “YOU  _ KNOW _ WHAT I THINK OF YOUR JUDGEMENT SKILLS.”

“nah, bro, not me. forget about me, just her. whaddya think of ‘er?”

That smirk of Sans’ face wasn't any less unsettling, but Papyrus saw no harm in giving an honest opinion. After all, his insight was always helpful, right?

“I THINK SHE’S TOO NICE.”

“too nice?” Sans chuckled. “okay, she’s a bit of a pushover sometimes but not to be messed with, bro. but no, i meant, do you think she’s hot?”

Okay, even weirder. But again, still a relatively harmless question.

“SHE’S VERY AGREEABLE.” He sniffed, after a long pause to consider. “SO MUCH SO THAT IT’S A GODDAMNED MIRACLE SHE’S STILL WITH A SLOB LIKE YOU. YOU SHOULD PROBABLY THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS, I SUPPOSE.”

Sans made a humming noise and fell silent, that mischievous grin still playing on his teeth.

“WHAT?!” He snapped finally, impatient.

“wouldja fuck ‘er?”

Papyrus went rigid, the magic rushing to color his skull a deep blood-orange. “SANS, THAT IS HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE! THIS IS YOUR MATE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!”

“take that as a yes, then,” he chuckled, standing from his seat to leave. “great. i’ll keep that in mind.”

“KEEP WHAT IN--SANS!”

But he was already disappearing up the stairs.

* * *

Papyrus sighed and shucked off his coat, noting vaguely that he didn't hear the usual strange noises coming from yours and Sans’ room. Maybe you were out for the evening and he would actually get some peace and quiet for once.

“Papyrus?”

Or not.

“WHAT IS IT, HUMAN?” He was irritated, to say the least, though he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy your company when you weren't attached to his brother’s pelvis.

“Uhm, I was just wondering...something broke up in Sans’ room and I was wondering if you could help me fix it before he gets back?”

Papyrus turned to regard you, standing at the bottom of the stairs with a nervous, guilty look on your face. Man, he was getting tired of covering for your clumsy ass all the time. “FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, CHILD. WHAT DID YOU BREAK  _ THIS _ TIME?”

“Uh, it's easier if I just show you.”

With a heavy sigh he gestured for you to go ahead, and followed you up the stairs. Hmm, that was a new skirt, he couldn't help but think as he trudged up the stairs behind you. He immediately felt guilty, but it was a secret pleasure of his to watch your hips swing as you walked ahead of him. His mind wandered to his brother’s question the other day: “ _ wouldja fuck ‘er?” _

He would, he absolutely would. He won’t lie, he notices you. Your ass, your hips, your thighs...the way you laugh at him as if he isn't even a little scary, the way you flutter your lashes when you ask him to fix something for you. You were alluring, there was no denying that, and your presence in his house since you had met Sans last year had helped him to realize what his brother’s fixation on humans was.

That, combined with the noises you’d been making in the middle of the night, in the early morning, in the shower...oohh boy. It was difficult to maintain his composure sometimes.

“SO WHERE IS IT?” He asked, stepping into Sans’ room and looking around. Nothing  _ appeared _ to be broken, though with Sans’ room it was hard to tell.

“Oh, it’s here somewhere…” you trailed off as you began to sift through things, and he was immediately distracted by the way you bent down to do so, making your skirt ride up just enough to be exciting. He saw some cheek and found himself wondering, with a sudden flush on his face, if you were wearing a thong, or maybe nothing at all. If only it would ride up just a little higher, or he was just a tad shorter, he might be able to find ou--

A giggle from you cut off his thoughts as he realized he had subconsciously begun to bend down to peer up your skirt.

“See something you like?”

He snapped back up to his full height, embarrassment flooding his skull at being caught staring. Quick! Think of an excuse! “I...I ONLY THOUGHT I SAW THE BROKEN THING, BUT I WAS WRONG!”

“Oh, I dunno, I think this skirt might actually be broken,” you said, bending back up to your full height again. You gathered the loose material in your fingers, pulling it up and tight against the curve of your ass. “I think there's a rip in the bottom hem. Can you see it?”

“NO!” He didn't even look.

“Too bad, guess I'll just have to change then.”

And now you were shimmying your skirt down your thighs.

“ST-STOP!” He managed, hand darting out to catch yours before he really did find out if you were panty-less. You looked up with a bemused expression, sliding it back up over your thighs.

“You know, Papyrus...it’s alright to admit that I turn you on.” You said, twisting slightly in his grip to run your fingertips over the smooth bone of his radius. He sucked in a breath at the contact, and was unprepared for when you took his hand and slipped it under the hem of your skirt. “Let’s do something about those urges, hmm?”

Oh God, he wanted to. But this was wrong! He couldn't voice his protest, though, as his breath hitched again when he realized you were moving his hand up your thigh, slowly, slowly…

“what the hell?”

Papyrus jerked his hand back at the sound of his brother’s voice, barely glancing at the older skeleton who was now standing in the doorway.

“IT...IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” He claimed.

“It's exactly what it looks like,” you snorted.

“NO! SANS, YOUR HUMAN WAS PUTTING THE MOVES ON ME, I HAD NO PART IN IT!”

“hmph.” Sans was eyeing the both of you with that same strange grin he had taken to when asking the strange questions. “yup. you’re right, better keep a tighter leash on her.” He nodded at you. “you know the drill for disobedience, sweetcheeks.”

You made a whining noise in the back of your throat and pouted. 

“mmm...make that two, for not waiting  _ and _ for pitchin’ a fit.” Sans amended, shedding his coat. You groaned in assent, and turned to stalk into the closet. Sans returned his attention to his very confused younger brother. “sorry, bro, she was supposed to wait until i got here and talked to you.”

“You had two weeks to talk to him!” You called from the closet, but Sans just shrugged.

“TALK TO ME ABOUT WHA…aaaaaaat...”

He trailed off into a quiet stutter as you emerged from the closet in a silken red and black nightgown. You huffily dropped onto the bed and crossed your arms with a glare. Sans piqued a browbone back as if to say “wanna make it three?”

“Fine,” you sniffed, and without further warning, you spread your legs, pulling up the hem of your nightgown so you could slide your fingers over your very naked pussy.

Papyrus squeaked, averting his gaze back to his brother, who chuckled at his shocked face.

“disobedience means she hasta get ‘erself off before i'll put it in her.” Sans explained. “and twice because she threw a hissy fit over it, huh, babe?”

A strangled moan was all you gave back from behind the lanky skeleton, and his imagination ran wild thinking of what you must look like.

“I SHOULD GO, THIS IS HIGHLY--”

“inappropriate? jeez, bro, relax. we have a proposition for ya.”

Sans slid onto the bed behind you, and you leaned back against his chest needily, fingers working delicately against your folds. Papyrus stared at the sight, wondering if he should slap himself awake. Sans traced your jawline, grasping your chin and making you look right at Papyrus.

“what was it you said? ‘very agreeable’? i’d have to argue she’s way more than that, don’tcha think, boss?” Sans purred, bringing his free hand around to trace your clavicle. You shuddered beneath his touch and let out a cry of pleasure. He slid his hand over your mouth to muffle the noises. “ahh...it’s rude to interrupt, doll. one down, one more to go.”

“SANS, I DON’T...I DON’T UNDERSTAND.” Papyrus clenched his fists, eyes beginning to wander over your form as you spread your legs wider due to Sans’ hushed prompting. Was he just showing off? Rubbing you in his face because he knew he had something he wanted?

“really? i thought it was pretty clear. i want ya t’fuck her. she wants it, too, don’tcha, sweetheart?”

You could probably hear a pin drop as silence fell, broken only by a sudden frustrated noise from you. Sans chuckled behind you, hand momentarily squeezing where it lay over your mouth.

“havin' trouble with number two over there?” A nod as your eyes flared with impatience. “you want pap to help ya?” Another nod, and a gasp as he released your mouth in favor of hooking his arms underneath your knees. Your arms flew up behind your head to caress his skull as he spread you completely for Papyrus to see, dress falling back down to obscure the view slightly, teasingly.

“YOU WANT A THREESOME?”

“mmm, not exactly. maybe sometime soon. really i just wanna watch.”

“YOU’RE DISGUSTING.”

“and yet, you're at attention, ain’tcha?”

Papyrus sucked in a breath, stealing another glance down at you. Flushed from your self-serviced orgasm, you were looking up at him through your lashes in just the right way that he had always imagined when he indulged his dirty fantasies. It was true that his magic had given him away easily, both in glow and in the fact that it was threatening to rip his pants down the seam.

“AND YOU, HUMAN? YOU WANT THIS?” He asked incredulously, suspicious that his brother might be forcing you into something you didn't want.

“Please, Papyrus,” you said breathlessly. “I’ve wanted this since the first time I caught you staring at my ass~”

“naughty human...so thirsty for the monster dick. well, boss? ain’t gonna leave her hangin’, are ya?” Sans teased, jiggling you in his arms. You moaned as your boyfriend laved his tongue up your neck and curled around your earlobe. His voice was a low growl. “or do i hafta do it after all?”

“SANS, DON'T RUIN THIS BY TALKING.” Papyrus scoffed finally, hands dropping to undo his belt. He was going to offer you to him with no strings attached? Well, why the fuck not?

Your eyes lit up when his erection sprung to attention from the confines of his leather pants, and you began squirming impatiently against Sans’ grip, causing the shorter skeleton to chuckle at your eagerness as Papyrus joined you both on the bed, kneeling to line himself up where Sans held you.

“ah, ah, ground rules,” Sans said, drawing you back before he could press in. Papyrus glared at him, but backed off a little. “if she says stop, you stop. if  _ i say  _ stop, you stop. no marking, no bonding, no cumming inside her, and no toys unless i say so. ain't that right, baby?”

“Yes,” you cooed in response, affectionately nuzzling his skull.

He growled, narrowing his eyes as Sans smirked smugly back at him. Control. That's what this was about. That you were his and he could “use” you as he pleased, and if that meant he could gain even the tiniest amount of control over Papyrus...his twitching member reminded him that he was too far in to withdraw due to pride alone, and so…

“Very Well...I Accept. Get Ready, Little Human. I'm Going To Show You What A Real Monster Cock Feels Like~"

And with that, Sans was pressing you back forward, allowing him to sink his cock into your pussy. You gasped and arched your back as his girth stretched you. He knew that Sans was bigger around than him, but he was longer, and he had you squealing in no time as he pressed against your cervix easily, pressing all the way to his pelvis before resting, gasping, allowing you both to soak in the moment.

“shit, babe, i love that fuckin’ face.” Sans growled into your ear, the words reverberating in his chest, against your back. You shuddered at the feeling, and Papyrus cursed almost silently as you squeezed his length inside you. “alright, you good, doll?”

You nodded, and he leaned your head back to kiss you affectionately before dropping your legs and scooting away. Papyrus didn't even look up, but he could hear the sound of a zipper as Sans got to work on himself. 

Whatever, that wasn't the point for him.

He wasted no more time, adjusting immediately to toss your ankles up to his shoulders, gripping your hips and grinding into you as he slammed your torso to the mattress, making you gasp.

Your hands shot up to grip his ribs, making him double over and grunt as he rutted against you again.

“How’s That For A Monster Cock,” he hissed into your ear, free hand tangling in your hair. Your knees were pressed practically to your chest now as he picked up a relatively slow pace. Despite how roughly you seemed to let Sans handle you, he still feared he might break you, and besides, his legs were still so weak from the feeling of you that he wasn't sure he wouldn't embarrass himself if he abused you right off the bat.

“Ahh,  _ fuck _ ...it’s so loooong--ah!” You squeaked as he pressed into your cervix again, tiny tears pricking your eyes as you adjusted to the feeling. It wasn't as if Sans had never hit your cervix before, but he wasn't so long that it was the default, and it was slightly hard to get used to. After a few more calculated thrusts, however, Papyrus seemed to find just the right angle to make your toes curl, and you threw your head back in a loud, heedy moan.

“hell fuckin’ yeah, baby, scream for my brother’s dick~”

“Sans, I Specifically Said No  _ Talking _ ,” Papyrus muttered through gritted teeth as he worked that angle again, making you purr and scratch at his spine.

Was it crossing a line to kiss you? Too late, he had already done it, snarling in dominance as his teeth crashed into your mouth. You sighed and tried to follow him, making him smirk and chance a glance at his brother.

Sans was completely unfazed, a cocky grin stretched across his face as he watched, hand stroking his crimson member. Alright, so kissing is fine then.

He returned his attention to you as you shifted to wrap your legs around his waist, panting. He pressed his fingers into your hips, your breasts, the swell of your ass, anything his hands could reach as he trailed his tongue down your middle, from your collar to the valley of your breasts, before shoving the nightgown up to continue until he couldn't bend any further.

In return, you knew how to press a skeleton’s buttons and you were wasting no time. Your fingers traced over his ribs, your mouth tasted his cervical vertebrae, your hand dipped to cup his iliac crest roughly, and--

“P-Papyrus,” you squeaked, voice sounding shaken and quivering with need. Were you close? He hadn't had many human partners, so he couldn't be sure, but just in case he brought his thumb down, down, down until it was pressing against your soaked clit, making you jerk and gasp. You dragged your nails sharply across his bone so hard that it actually  _ hurt, _ making that noise, oh, god, that noise he’d come to hear so often through the walls that made him grind his teeth in jealousy, and it was all for  _ him _ this time, he thought triumphantly and--

He abruptly remembered the rules and pulled out just in time, gasping as the aftershock rode through his bones, spilling his luminescent seed over your now-exposed belly.

He didn't remember much after that, only that Sans had taken over, kissing you, praising you, promising him there would be more nights like that before growling out a different, less appealing promise directed only to you. A promise which you outright moaned at, allowing him to then take control of your body, both of you barely remembering Papyrus was there other than the feeble praise that fell from your lips before Sans silenced you with a heated kiss.

He remembers feeling amazing, better than he ever had, wondering if it was you that did that to him. He remembers dreaming about you that night, and finding himself smirking as he heard the moans through the walls once more.

They didn't sound the same for Sans as they did for him. Different,  _ better _ in his opinion. There was one more thought that he dismissed the next day just before he agreed to be your extra set of hands for good--the thought that maybe he wanted you just for himself.

That you might want that, too.

* * *

Why is he remembering that night now?

Papyrus groaned, pressing his hand to his temple. He had let you walk off with Sans into the guest room at least an hour ago, and yet he had heard nothing from that room. He supposed that might be a good sign, but really it was up in the air.

He glared at the Epi-pen in his other hand as if it offended him. He wasn't...doing  _ great _ in the datemate department. He didn't know your allergies, or that you were scared of clowns. He didn't realize until after the movie that he was supposed to hold and comfort you through the scary parts. He certainly knew your body, but even he knew that wasn't enough to justify the mark you had created together. No, that mark goes deeper, it reveals something more intimate than the both of you had ever realized you shared.

If he could only find the source, he’d have a solid case against his brother.

But he didn't know where to start. He'd taken you to dinner, he'd abstained to protect your sensitive emotional state, he had talked at length with you about the wealth of feelings you shared with both him and Sans...what was it? What is he missing? Why aren’t you connecting like you did that first night?

He grew irritated, and suddenly it was much too warm in here. If it weren't for Sans...if he only truly had you all to himself…

**M I N E**

The thought was so sudden and obvious that it startled him, making him jump and yelp, the Epi-pen clattering to the floor.

Just as he leapt from his seat, he heard a commotion from the bedroom, a little silence, and then the door flew open to reveal a very flustered Sans and an exasperated you.

“Papyrus, I have an important question for you.” You said immediately, holding an arm out to keep Sans at length.

“YES, MY SWEET?”

“What do you think of Sans?”

“I THINK HE’S ACTUALLY VERY STRONG AND DECEPTIVELY SMART, AND DESPITE ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED HE IS STILL A GOOD MATCH FOR YOU.”

He slapped a hand over his mouth as he looked at Sans’ shocked, flushed face. Why did he say that?! He never talked like that unless--

You sighed.

“Great, so  _ you’re  _ in heat, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied when I said the next one would take a while, I didn't expect to have an idea for it already.


	21. Cheater: Truce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something fucky this way comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I have had this done forever but I was trying to hold off because I havent posted anything but cheater chapters to this story in forever ;-;  
> But  
> If that's what comes to me, that's what comes to me.  
> So. Here we go again!

“toldja, it isn't possible,” Sans snarked, arms crossed as he sinks into the couch beside you.

“YES, DATEMATE, SANS IS RIGHT. OUR HEATS WERE ONLY A FEW MONTHS AGO, AND ONCE A MONSTER FINDS A MATE THEY DECREASE TO ONLY ONCE A YEAR.” Papyrus confirmed from his spot on the other side of you. “NOW, PERHAPS MY CYCLES ARE SLIGHTLY OFF DUE TO HOW RECENTLY I MARKED YOU, BUT SANS SHOULD NOT HAVE CHANGED AT ALL.”

“A-actually, that’s not true,” Alphys said suddenly, barely glancing up from her laptop. “Uh, hold on, lemme f-find it in here…”

You sighed and settled back against the couch, frustrated and confused. Both brothers had argued relentlessly that they were  _ not _ in heat, because they didn't see their usual signs and also because mated monsters go from 2-3 heats a year down to one after marking their mates, a fact you had already proven in Sans after he marked you during the second heat he’d spent with you.

And so, Alphys had been called, and after giving them a quick once-over, she declared they were in heat...and also not in heat. And now she had her snout buried in her laptop, trying to find some article she had thought of when you explained the situation.

You chanced a glance at Sans, who was luckily looking the other way. You felt a pang of guilt, knowing that whatever it was, you had obviously triggered it when you touched his soul. Under the circumstances, you probably shouldn't have done that in the first place, but how could you not?

It looked like  _ death _ . It called out to you in a broken wail, as if stuttering your name with his last dying breath. You hadn't been able to stop yourself from touching it, and the second you did you felt everything.

Overwhelming understanding. It was difficult to sort out, now, where your feelings ended and his began, as now you had both sides of the story. In an instant, your soul had begun to weep and cling to the feeling of his, and though his sockets were shut you could feel him waiting for it. And out it had come, no matter how much you struggled, and as soon as it was there you could only feel one emotion from him:  **_mine_ ** . A possessive, primal feeling that had no words other than that one, repeated on loop as he quickly pushed you down, pressing his teeth to whatever part of you was closest as his hand moved to wrap around your magenta being and--

The slap had surprised you both, grounded you both. You were glad your body remembered what's good because your brain had shut off entirely and you were left staring at him in awe, or fear, or both. He looked terrifying and demonic, powerful, dominating, his red magic swirling around the both of you as he slowly came to.

He looked  _ hot _ .

In the end, the only explanation you could think of for him to lose himself in that possessive feeling was that he was in heat. His argument fell on deaf ears when you confirmed that Papyrus was showing heat behaviors as well, and once again this is where it had all landed you, an experiment for a dinosaur who kept muttering about OT3s and wiping away the forming nosebleed.

“Y/n, c-can I ask you a personal question?” The dinosaur asked, straightening her glasses. You shrugged, so she continued. “Your human reproductive cycle is monthly, is it not?”

“Uhh...yeah. That’s what a period is, when your body sheds the uterine lining it made during ovulation. Bleeding through the pretty parts and all that.”

“metal as fuck,” Sans mumbled next to you, and you couldn't help the tiny smile that formed, especially when you saw Papyrus’ horrified expression. Guess you had neglected that talk with him?

“So, ovulation is what happens just before your cycle?”

“Technically it  _ is _ the cycle, but yeah it happens just before the bleeding. Why?”

Alphys said nothing, instead clicking her tongue against her teeth thoughtfully. Finally she spoke, asking another personal question. “A-and when are you d-due to bleed again?”

Period math, ugh. You quickly did it in your head and told her it should be coming next week.

“S-so...you're ovulating now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why?”

Sans groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. “oh, stars, you gotta be kidding me. don’t tell me we’re gonna have a heatwave every goddamn time she cycles?”

“Wait, what?”

“S-seems to be the case,” Alphys drawled, eyeing you over her screen. “They aren’t in heat... _ you are. _ ”

You gaped at her openly. “Come again?”

Papyrus snickered. “I BELIEVE THAT IS THE OBJECTIVE, YES, DARLING.”

Sans snorted at the obvious pun, and you pressed your lips in a thin line of disapproval, biting back your laugh as you turned beet red.

You smacked Papyrus in the chest (OW WHY WAS HE WEARING HIS ARMOR), who didn't stop snickering but at least sat up straight.

“Y-yeah...your body is ripe for, for mating right now, so they’re only responding to, uh, to what you're putting down. So to speak.” Alphys clarified.

“But…!” You tried to protest, but how do you protest science? “But we, I mean, Sans never had this problem before, and we've been mated for over a year now.”

“shit, present tense, maybe i'm gettin’ somewhere.” Sans joked, seemingly delighted by the crazy circumstances. You rolled your eyes, and Papyrus broke into a quiet laugh again, shaking slightly as he leaned away politely.

“Well, before...you know...Sans never had any competition. With two marks, the magic is, uhm, it's fighting for dominance, or-or at least for a pecking order.”

“Wha--wait, so this will happen every time I ovulate?”

“Not only that, but you’ll...you’ll be r-really horny. More so than usual. Almost like their real heats.”

“WELL.  _ I’M _ NOT COMPLAINING.” Papyrus mused, laughter still evident in his voice.

“Isn't there anything we can do?” You asked, exasperated.

“could fuck our brains out,” Sans chuckled. “otherwise, short of one of us dyin’, this’ll keep happenin’ until your soul chooses one of us.”

“Or until the magic is stabilized another way..." Alphys coughed. "...likeapolyrelationshipjustasuggestion!”

The last words were mushed together but you heard them clearly, and your face burned with embarrassment.

“But--!”

“In, uh, in the meantime, though, you need to fornicate or else the magic will eat you alive.” Alphys added as she packed up her things. “Too much or t-too little of either of them could either break the markings or b-break you, but since this has never happened to a human before...we have no idea which.”

She prattled some more science stuff that Sans confirmed, reminding you that he was just as smart as he was lazy, and left her number in case you need anything before giving you a blushing, knowing look as she scurried out the front door.

Well. That explains how goddamn  _ thirsty _ you had been when you were on the couch with Papyrus earlier, as well as how submissive you had been when Sans was forcing you down on the bed.

“So, let me get this straight.” You sighed. “Despite the fact that it isn't even possible the normal way, my body wants one or both of you to put a baby in me and your bodies are basically saying--”

“challenge accepted, yeah,” Sans snorted.

“ALRIGHT, THEN, NO TIME TO LOSE.” Papyrus shrugged, sweeping you gracefully up off the couch and into his arms. “I SUPPOSE I SHALL HAVE TO TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM AND FUCK YOU SENSELESS, SHAN’T I?”

“hey, hey, woah, heat or not we shouldn’t treat it so lightly, boss. youse guys only just started datin’ and we’re still...uh...whatever we are.” Sans pointed out.

“HMPH. YOU'RE RIGHT. DATEMATE, WHAT DO  _ YOU _ WANT TO DO?”

“more like  _ who _ ,” Sans snickered so quietly you almost missed it.

“Uhm, uhhh…”

What a question, holy shit. What  _ do  _ you want to do? You know that Alphys said you have to sleep with both of them, and from the sounds of it it will have to be often and that when it really hits you’ll be a literal hot mess. Your fingers curled around the neck of your hoodie, pulling the fabric to bury your blush as you contemplated your options.

Hell, more like contemplated where you were in general. After touching Sans’ soul and starting all this shit, you still felt betrayed by his actions but at least you knew how sorry he was. More than that, you had  _ felt _ how broken and distant he felt when he thought you were cheating, had experienced the numbness as he took the girl home, had seen through his eyes how he didn't enjoy or even really register it. On top of it, he was not only sorry, but he had stopped to consider what was best for  _ you _ , which was a first, and had freely admitted that he doesn't deserve another chance.

And maybe he doesn't, but remembering the way his soul looked threatened to make you tear up again. You still love him, after all, a deep, preoccupying love that he shares wholeheartedly for you, and you can't bear to think of the scars etched in his soul from all of this. The scars etched in yours, too.

And Papyrus, well, just because you were off to a bumpy start didn't mean the feeling from that first night had gone away. A different kind of love, one that you had long mistaken for lust, had been burning for him in the back of your mind ever since the first time he had joined with you in the bedroom. Over time it had become more intimate, a feature even Sans had noticed in your sessions together.

Yes, the relationship you currently shared was still mainly physical, because you didn't really know any other way to handle each other. You supposed in this situation it might make it easier--emotions with Sans are going to make this difficult, especially since you weren't nearly ok just yet, but Papyrus would easily be able to do what your body needs without putting too much extra thought into it. 

Then there was Alphys’ advice…

“Uhm, I think I'm alright for right now, just...tired…” You mumbled lamely, resting your head against the soft yarn of his scarf. “If, uh, if I need you guys, I suppose you'll know? Right now I just want a nap.”

“FAIR ENOUGH. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO JOIN YOU?”

You popped your head back up to stare at him, a sentiment mimicked by Sans, who had stopped just short of opening the door to the guest room.

“...paps  _ wants _ to nap? well, now i really  _ have _ seen it all.” He scoffed, resuming his task. Papyrus smirked, striding into the room, only to pause once inside.

“SANS, DID YOU BUY AN ENTIRE FLOWER SHOP?! SHE CAN’T REST IN HERE! THERE IS FAR TOO MUCH POLLEN!”

“well, then, my room’s out, too.”

Papyrus sighed, adjusting his grip on you as he turned on his heel. “VERY WELL. MY ROOM IT IS.”

You gripped him as he spun, and caught the tight grin on Sans’ face. Your eyes met his, and he waved lazily at you as his brother started to walk off with you in tow.

“Wait!”

Papyrus stopped in his tracks, surprised by your outburst.

“WHAT IS IT?”

“Well...just...if we’re going to nap, uhm...it would be rude to exclude the master of napping himself.” You found yourself saying, smiling shyly over his shoulder at Sans, whose eyelights went wide as he realized you were inviting him along. “Don't you think?”

Papyrus clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance as he thought about your statement. He seemed to decide it was best to do as you please, so he finally shrugged.

“FINE. I GUESS THERE’S ROOM FOR THREE.”

* * *

Sans wasn't sleeping at all, although if he did it would be the best sleep he had had in weeks.

You were pressed up against him, your face buried in his shirt as you made yourself comfortable, Papyrus snoring quietly at your back, large arms wrapped now around both of you as he adjusted. You had gotten fed up with Sans early into the nap for trying to keep his distance (“I just want to sleep! Get comfortable, dummy!”) and so now he had his arms wrapped comfortingly around you, fingers twirling your hair absently.

He didn't even mind his brother’s presence, as the three of you had collapsed in exhaustion together before, after sex, and as such it almost seemed...normal. As if nothing had happened.

But something  _ had _ happened, and now everything was different. In this moment, perhaps he could pretend that you were still only his, but it wasn't true.

Two things surprised him about that fact.

One: It was Papyrus of all people who you were now dating, and for once in his brother’s life he sensed genuine affection from him.

Two: He was surprisingly okay with sharing you, logically--it was his instincts that were struggling with the concept. He loved you, and he loved his brother, and if his brother loved you, and you loved him...he may have thrown a tantrum about it initially, but in the end, with what he had done...if the solution involved him at all, he’d be ecstatic.

He sighed, taking the moment to steal a guilty snuggle from you, fingertips ghosting over the small strip of exposed skin where your hoodie had begun to ride up. He nuzzled against your hair and inhaled, savoring your scent as his starved senses awoke with fervor. He missed you. He missed this. He didn't know what he had until he lost it, until he realized how selfish he was.

Until he saw you that night at Grillby’s, all dressed up like an angel from his wildest dreams, still worrying about him, still loving him, still hurt and yet so gentle. When he woke up the next morning, all he remembered at first was a thick sense of regret, of knowing he was looking at this wrong. What his instincts didn't realize was that you weren't  _ his _ ...he was  _ yours _ . It wasn't like the underground where you collared people to show ownership (come to think of it, he never outgrew the habit of wearing the collar that said “property of Papyrus” on it, a thought that might stir some confusing questions later when he stopped to ask them). No, this was the surface world, where all you needed to claim someone was love.

Papyrus grumbled and shifted in his sleep, his iron grip around Sans’ shoulders dragging the three of you closer still, successfully sandwiching you between the two brothers. You made a little moan, tilting your head back slightly so he could see your lashes flutter open. He stilled his hands where they were still caressing you, hoping you hadn't noticed and wouldn't make him stop.

You blinked sleepily, in that adorable way you always do when you’re still waking up.

“...time izzit?” You mumbled, head pressing into the pillow as if you didn't even want to know.

“middle of the night,” he whispered back, tentatively running his thumb along that exposed skin once more. You made a little moan again, eyes closing for a long moment before opening again, this time half-lidded and laced with a fire he knew all too well. “...go back to sleep, it’s practically bedtime now.”

“Mmm...don’ wanna.” You protested bluntly. The hand that had been resting on his sternum now moved delicately down the front of his shirt, and his body reacted immediately by forming his magic faster than he ever had before as he blushed. He felt the strong urge to coax you from Papyrus’ arms and wrap up in a fluffy comforter with you, a ghost of the urge to nest that he gets during heats.

With great difficulty, he captured your hand softly, removing it from his chest to lace his fingers with yours and kiss the back of your knuckles.

“m’serious, princess. ya feel like heaven right now but...you’re gonna need rest for when the heat really hits you. i’ll be here when you wake up, promise.”

The little dejected snuffle he got in return confirmed his suspicion that you weren't even really awake anyway, telling him he made the right decision. Your eyes slid closed again, but not before you moved a bit to place a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw, so delicately that it made his bones rattle. His magic buzzed uncomfortably, but he wasn’t an animal--your trust was more important than the heat rising in his joints.

And with that, your head dropped to rest underneath his jaw once more, where your warm breath crawled against his spine.

He forced himself to close his eyes and count backwards “200...199...198...197...190...mmf...zzzz…”

And with that, his body snapped asleep, drinking in the sweet pressure of your form against him.

* * *

“Sans, Are You Awake?”

“mmm...five more minutes, pap…”

_ Clunk _ .

“...really? flicking my nosebone?” He groaned sleepily, cracking one socket open to regard his brother.

Papyrus didn't answer right away, instead pointing his worried gaze down at your still sleeping form.

“somethin’ wrong?” Sans muttered, realizing how incredibly warm your body was against his. “think it’s startin’?”

“I’m...Not Sure.” Papyrus said quietly, reaching up to brush your sweaty hair from your face. “How Hot Is She Going To Get? Humans Can’t Possibly Withstand The Temperatures We Get To During Heat.”

“shit, i didn't even think about that.”

“She Isn’t Waking Up, Either. I Tried.”

Papyrus could only mirror the shocked, scared look on his brother’s face.

“call alphys, now.”

“Already Done. She Said To Wait It Out Another Hour To See If She Wakes Up.”

Sans was already distracted as Papyrus talked. He was adjusting you, murmuring your name quietly as he tried to coax you awake. Papyrus watched the intimate way Sans ran his thumb over your cheek, the way he brushed your hair from your shoulders to check your pulse. So natural, the way he touched you, not like how Papyrus had tried to awkwardly hold your hand after the movie yesterday.

“I'm Sorry.”

Sans looked up at him, puzzled. “come again?”

He didn't know why he said that, but the words continued to tumble from his mouth.

“I, Uhm...I'm Sorry. This Is All My Fault, Because I Marked Her Without Thinking Of The Consequences. She’s Suffering.”

Sans clicked his tongue thoughtfully, hand glowing with healing magic as he held it against your forehead. “...it’s not your fault,” he said finally.

Papyrus quickly held up one hand to heal with, too, trying to take some of the heat away by rubbing your shoulders gently.

“It Is. We Could Have Talked About This Like Civilized Beings. We Could Have…” He trailed off, shaking his head to try to shake away this feeling. “If None Of This Had Happened, If I Hadn't...She Would Be Okay.”

“then it’s my fault as much as it is yours, eh?” Sans scolded, giving up on healing in favor of checking your condition. “doesn't do any good to think about what if’s, does it? help me out here, we gotta get this sweatshirt off before she overheats.”

They cooperated in silence for a while, sitting up to strip the thick sweatshirt from your limp form. A deep sigh escaped you as the frigid air of the bedroom hit your warm skin, cold skeletal fingers from both the brothers gently checking your temperature from your head to your arms.

“i think she’ll be okay as long as we keep her cool.” Sans traced your jaw gently, affectionately. Then he dropped his hand and looked up at Papyrus, a sudden silence falling between them.

The first time they had really been around each other since the first night, when Sans had torn apart his room. Three weeks had passed but it felt the same, a feeling of deep regret and confusion hanging overhead.

Papyrus wondered what Sans’ soul must have looked like for you to be compelled to touch it, to heal it. Pretty bad, he assumed, from the shaken way you had explained it. He felt guilty, thinking only of himself and his own feelings for you instead of what was best for you and his brother. You were probably the only person who had ever made him want to put someone else first, who made him care. And as much as he pretended not to care about Sans, they were brothers. It would be...lonely without him. It  _ had _ been lonely these last three weeks.

“Are You Feeling Well?”

“are  _ you  _ feeling well?” Sans joked, chuckling nervously as he laid you back down, head resting in Papyrus’ lap as the brothers sat on the edge of the bed.

The taller skeleton rolled his eyelights. “I  _ Am _ Allowed To Worry.”

“yeah, but, you don't usually.” Sans said slowly. “sorry, just kinda weird.”

“I See.”

More silence as Papyrus caressed your hair, untangling tiny knots as you snoozed on his lap.

Finally, Sans snorted in amusement.

“What’s So Funny?”

“nothin’. just thinkin’ about how our little human has us all backwards and head over heels like this. fuckin’ funny.”

“I Guess It Is Pretty... _ Our _ Human?”

There was no disgust in his voice, but more like genuine surprise. Sans shrugged, gazing down at you adoringly.

“yeah, i mean...i think we been too stubborn to look at the most obvious solution, s’all.”

Paps contemplated the suggestion, looking down at you with curiosity. Would you go for that? For your health, there were very few options. Removing a mark is unstable and dangerous, whereas forcing you to pick could result in the spurned lover’s death or at least fractioning of the soul. Working together and getting along as a group is the safest, not to mention the healthiest, option...he just never thought he’d hear that sort of logic coming from Sans, who is possessive as it gets. So is he, actually, but...they have always shared everything else. Nightmares, dreams, fond memories, food, a house...other than the way their instincts were clashing right now, they had never had trouble sharing anything with each other.

“...Yes. I Suppose We Have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little miniseries has gone a very different direction.  
> I intended to make Sans suffer a while longer but?? It worked so perfectly? I dunno


	22. *Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have ten minutes.  
> Red thinks that's more than enough time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smuuuuut  
> Okay so I had written this one a while ago, but I lost it completely so here it is again. This is a bonus for SSiYC, kind of AU kind of not?  
> So basically you could say this happens sometime after SSiH. Because smutttt. It does mention they are bonded so it could also take place way in the future in the normal timeline, whatever you want to believe.  
> Sexual content: ecto-junk, hand job, ecto-semen

“c’mon, kitten~”

Red’s eyes were burning holes in the back of your head as you clasped the necklace around your neck, flipping your hair over the other shoulder and adjusting your dress.

“Red, your brother is expecting us downstairs in 10 minutes.”

You felt his hand close around your wrist and you turned to smirk in a teasingly chastising manner. He was only half-dressed still, the tux jacket still draped over the chair and his tie hanging untied around his neck, top few buttons undone to show his collarbone...but the real star of the show was his other hand, or more accurately, the way it was wrapped around his thick red member so casually hanging out of his dress pants.

“then ya better make it quick…” He winked, gold tooth glinting in the light of your vanity mirror. “...right?”

You rolled your eyes but you knew you were blushing. You also knew exactly what he did--that you would give in.

“Red…” you sighed, kneeling down on the bed next to him to press a kiss against his temple. He grinned in victory, leaning into your kiss with a rumble of satisfaction. “You know he’ll be angry if we’re late.”

“like i said, kitten of mine...stop wastin’ time an’ make it quick~” He purred, body responding immediately to your hand as it traveled down over his ribs to wrap around his magic.

“You don't want it quick, you never want it quick,” you teased, stroking him gently and causing him to close his sockets and take a shuddering breath. “Besides, it took me two hours to get dressed, can’t undo it all now.”

Despite your words, you were already pumping his member slowly, trailing lipstick marks from his mandible and down his vertebrae as you kissed him deliberately. He groaned, his hand releasing his magic to clutch at the sheets beside him, the other snaking around behind your neck to pull you closer.

You hummed against his clavicle, taking great pleasure in the way his breath fanned against your neck in shaky moans.

“oh, fuck, kitten, don’t stop…” he groaned, tugging lightly on the back of your neck to bring you back up for a kiss, his sharp teeth nipping your lip in his excitement as you moved a little faster, thumbing the head of his cock gently.

“Mmm...not as long as you keep making those noises~” You teased, feeling his soul swell as yours beat in time, your bond singing out fervently as he rocked impatiently into your palm.

You hoped he wouldn't be too much of a sweaty mess, but you already knew you’d have to wipe off what was left of your lipstick and reapply, not to mention scrub his bones clean as you worked your way down to flick your tongue between his top set of ribs, grazing his soul slightly.

The taste of cherries tingled on your tongue as he gasped, that little action proving to be the final push he needed. You squeaked and held yourself back from him, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he pumped his release into your hand with a shudder and a whimper.

“oh, fuck,” he muttered, pressing kisses against your neck before you could move away, eyelights morphing to tiny hearts. “i think i love you.”

You giggled.

“Red, I don't think that joke is as effective after you’ve bonded.”

He chuckled, caressing your neck and jaw with the tips of his fingers. “nah. still funny. uh...sorry, you might have to wash up now.”

“Oh, you mean this?” You said, holding your hand up pointedly. His sticky red release was still dripping from it, and you smirked as he seemed to realize exactly what you were going to do.

There was a loud crash as the door to your room slammed against the wall.

“RED! HUMAN! YOU SAID YOU WOULD BE DOWNSTAIRS ALMOST TEN MINUTES AGO! UNDYNE AND ALPHYS ARE READY TO GET MARRIED AND YOU BOTH ARE--”

Edge stopped talking immediately as his eyes settled on the sight in front of him: Red, with his pants and shirt still unbuttoned and his still-half-mast erection nonchalantly resting on his femur, and you, with eyes wide, frozen in the act of licking his red magic off your fingers.

He stared dumbly at the both of you, and it was Red who recovered first. His sharp-toothed smug grin had you worried immediately.

“well, guess we were caught…”

“ _ Red, don’t!” _ You hissed, horrified.

“... _ red- _ handed.”

You didn't even know Edge could reach that decibel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm good old fashioned smut  
> Feels good bro.  
> If you wanna see more SSiYC AU/bonus chapters, let me know!


	23. Netflix and Chill*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of you seem to realize what you do to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red x Reader smut for Llama_Goddess, because she's amazing ❤
> 
> Warnings/kinks: Smut, Masturbation, p in v, hair pulling, safeword, biting
> 
> This was so much fun to write (:

He's running his fingers through your hair absently again.

He's probably not even aware he does it.

He's definitely not even aware how it makes you feel.

You try to keep yourself composed underneath his fingertips--you don't want to ruin your friendship just because you have it bad for him. Red has always been afraid of commitment, something you'd seen ruin every relationship he'd been in since you'd met. You closed your eyes, indulging, for a moment, the thought of how it might be if that weren't the case.

The vision behind your eyelids was sickly sweet, with him pulling you close for a kiss when you came home from work. His fingers would thread through your hair, just like this, and he'd...wreck you senseless until you couldn't remember your name.

Damn.

There goes your PG daydream, those never last long. Not when his fingers have travelled from your hair to squeeze your neck and shoulders, drawing light circles as his eyelights train on the TV.

You're supposed to be watching Stranger Things. That's what you do together, watch a couple episodes a day after work and then you either go to Grillby’s or you head home alone. You always end up with your head in his lap, throw pillow pressed against your cheek as he absently twirls his fingers through your hair and across your back.

He can't sit still. Never could. The first time he touched you like this, you'd locked up in surprise, and he'd apologized, saying he does stuff like that without realizing it. Some of the anxiety from the underground, you assumed, and if it wasn't his hands it was his restless leg, or it was bobbing his head and humming. You think he might actually die if he sits still too long.

Not that you mind.

Nope. It's the opposite. You love this. You can't sleep on days where you don't come by anymore, can't relax from work without his fingers dancing through your locks or drumming a pattern on your thigh.

He has no idea he even does it. He has no idea what it does to you. And yet you can't bring yourself to tell him to stop, nor can you stop yourself from calling out his name when you touch yourself at night, imagining his touch getting rougher on your body.

Aaaaaand now you're horny.

Probably time to go.

“what’sa matter?” He asked, surprised when you sat up abruptly.

“Nothing! I just...I work early tomorrow, so I should be heading home.”

Now it's your own fingers carding through your hair, tugging nervously as he deflates a bit.

“now? the episode ain't even over yet.”

...you hadn't actually been watching. In fact, you hadn't paid attention to the whole second season so far--too distracted by his touch.

“Oh, but...it's late.”

No it's not. It's only 11:00.

“wait.” He catches your arm as you turn to leave. “howsabout we just take it to your place, then? we can watch until you fall asleep an’ then i’ll go. or you could stay here tonight? we’re closer to your work than you anyway...i don't wanna finish the episode without ya, y’know?”

You shifted uncomfortably. You wanted to leave because you wanted to scream his name into a pillow while your suspiciously-hued red dildo serviced you.

“...Sure. Whichever.” You found yourself saying, and he grinned, jumping up to grab his coat so the two of you could take off.

Damn...You really needed release…

* * *

You locked the door to the bathroom, listening intently.

All you heard was the sound of pots and pans clinking in the kitchen--Red was making the two of you a snack while you “used the bathroom”.

You gripped the heart shaped pillow in your hands. Better make it quick.

The secret compartment was well-hidden to the untrained eye, but you removed your favorite toy from it with little effort. It's red hue matched your best friend’s magic exactly, even though you had bought it before you met...God, you're disgusting.

Oh, well. If you were going to have his hands on you all night, you would need something to go on.

* * *

You’d been in the bathroom a while, he thought, thumbing through Netflix to select the episode you'd been watching.

Good. Gives him time to breathe.

He shouldn't have done this, hooooo boy he shouldn't have invited himself over. The whole place smelled like you, feminine and wonderful. He shouldn't be here.

But he hadn't wanted it to end. Every day it hurts more to see you go, because his soul thrums so loudly it drowns out everything else.

Crap. Which episode are you on again? He has no fucking clue. He doesn't even know half the character’s names. He's too busy focusing on the way your hand rests on his knee while you lay in his  _ lap _ . Thank God for throw pillows or he'd have been poking you in the face every damn night for weeks now.

He breathed, popping some of the popcorn into his mouth. Distracting himself.

He knows he's disgusting.

He knows it isn't okay to covet his best friend this way, to wish you would move the pillow one day, find what he was hiding, and smile and offer to help. He knows you would be horribly offended if you ever caught the way he humped his pillow, calling your name desperately.

After all, he's just a big, dumb, monster who can't keep a girlfriend. He can't help it, though...they distract him from you for a while, but in the end they're nothing but a shitty substitution and so he ditches them, afraid to commit to someone who can't excite him as much as you do.

Okay. You'd really been in there a while. Maybe he should knock and check on you.

Before his hand hits the door, though, he pauses.

Was that...a moan? Are you in pain? Another moan, and a whimper...you sound like you're in pain. He leans in to hear more, the sound of his soul thrumming, echoing in his skull as he struggles to hear you.

“Ah, fuck,” you swear softly, and it's enough to make him weak. He sinks to the floor, knowing exactly what you're doing in there. Another muffled moan...damn, he can't help but be turned on.

Well...if you're doing it…

His hand slides down to press against his bulge, and he bites back a moan of his own. He's good at staying quiet, otherwise Edge would probably have ended his life several times over for interrupting his beauty sleep.

Your breathing picks up as he looses his cock from his shorts. This is wrong, but so what? He's always been gross like this. Today is not the day to start turning a new leaf, especially not with the little noises coming from your bathroom.

His cock is already slick with pre-cum, and he imagines you making those noises as your mouth bobs up and down on it, humming and swallowing and moaning his name--

Wait. His name?

He stops, listening intently to see if he heard correctly.

Holy fuck.

He did. He  _ did  _ hear correctly. It's quiet, but you're moaning his name on the other side of that door, and holy  _ shit _ you sound so wrecked his almost creams his damn shorts.

Before he could think of what to do, he just shoves his dick back in his shorts, unlocks the door with his magic, and flings it open.

You shriek in surprise, flinging something red into the tub and yanking the shower curtain into place, pulling your skirt back down...but he already saw you weren't wearing panties.

“R-Red! What the fuck?!” you asked, standing on shaky legs.

He doesn't answer, just grabs your hand and pulls you close, studying your face. You're flushed pink, completely embarrassed and more than a little adorable. You're avoiding his eye. He could take you right here.

But no.

“sorry. thought i heard you call me, thought you were in pain.” He said, dropping your hand and shoving his own back into his pockets. He wanted to know what got you so worked up in the first place before he admitted what he’s heard. “you ready? popcorn’s on.”

“Y...yeah…” you squeaked, tugging at the bottom of your skirt. “Yeah. I'm...done in here.”

* * *

It didn't take you long to cool down. You'd almost been caught, but if you're cool about it, he’ll never know! So be cool!

Act normal.

“ain't gonna put your head down?” He asked, patting his femur pointedly. Right. It's weird that you aren't cuddling yet.

“Right,” you say lamely, doing just that. There aren't any throw pillows on your couch, but he's provided his jacket as a buffer. Your hand unconsciously grips his shorts as he hits play, and you almost believe you hear his breath hitch.

A few minutes in, and something’s wrong.

He's dead still. He isn't jiggling his leg, or nodding his head, or drumming his fingers. And he isn't touching your hair or back or shoulders or anything.

“Everything okay up there?” You ask, concerned. He jolts a little at your voice, but settles quickly.

“uh. peachy. why?”

“You're, uh...not touching me at all.”

His mind is racing immediately. Did you know? Had you been waiting all this time for him to just...take you? “t...touching you?”

“Like...my hair and stuff. You, uhm...you always play with it while we watch.”

...he does? “i...i do?”

You giggled a little. “Yeah. I thought it was a nervous thing.”

“oh. sorry. guess i was distracted.” He said. “by the...show.”

You fell silent, seemingly appeased, and his hand hovered over your hair. Apparently he does this all the time, so why is he nervous?

His fingers glided through your hair smoothly, and oh  _ mother of god that sigh _ . You shifted, melting underneath his touch. Did this happen every time?! How in the holy hell had he missed these little whimpers and sighs every day?

Well. He figured it out. The thing that had gotten you so worked up. His fingers danced down to your neck and shoulders, pushing your shirt away gently to run them over your smooth skin. You liked it. Holy tits, you actually liked it!

But...wait.

“isn't your boyfriend gonna be home soon?” He asked, reluctantly pulling his hand away.

“Boyfriend?” You asked, voice heavy with confusion and a deeper note of arousal.

“yeah. that guy you live with. don.”

Suddenly you were laughing, pushing off his lap to sit up next to him. He felt annoyance creep in. The hell was so funny?

“Oh my God, you thought...oh, Red, Don isn't my boyfriend.” You giggled, wiping your tears away. “He's my cousin, and he doesn't live here anymore. He moved in with  _ his _ boyfriend.”

Red stared at you.

_ What _ .  _ WHAT?! _

“you mean to tell me, you _haven't_ had a boyfriend the entire time we've known each other?” He asked slowly.

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Jeez, do you even li--”

You were cut off with a squeak as he rushed forward, pressing his teeth to your lips and bowling you completely over onto the couch. You might have hit your head, but his hand was firmly cradling your neck, holding you up as he kissed you with desperation. His fingers wound into your hair and you outright moaned, hands balling in his sweater as the fog in your head cleared.

He was kissing you.

Holy fuck, Red was kissing you.

“Red, I--”

“you want me, right?” He groaned, trailing kisses down your neck, leaving nips and licks in the curve of your clavicle. “in the bathroom...you were calling for me, i heard ya…”

You sighed and moaned as his hands pushed your skirt up, running over your bare thighs. “Fuck...yes, yes I was...I do. I want you.”

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited to hear you say that,” he practically whimpered, one hand ripping the buttons open on your blouse. You were glad you wore your front-fastening bra today, and apparently so was he, because he unclipped it faster than you could blink and suddenly his hands were everywhere.

“Re...Red, wait,” you moaned, and he stopped, hands squeezing your breasts, face buried in your neck and inches away from biting you. “I...I don't want this to be a...a fling.”

“fling?” He asked, and the growl of his voice rumbled pleasantly against your throat.

“I know you...aren't a relationships kind of guy,” you sighed. “But I can't accept just sex from you...not at this point.”

“good. me neither.” He squeezed your breasts pointedly, ghosting the tips of his teeth over your throat. “i'm not bad at relationships, dollface...i just can't bring myself to get serious with anyone else when you gotcha head in my lap every night...drivin’ me absolutely fuckin’ wild in your cute little work clothes...teachin’ my asshole brother how to fuckin’ cook without burnin’ it…”

He sat back a bit to look you in the eyes.

“the fact is...it's always just been you.”

You nodded breathlessly. “Me, too. It's...always been you.”

“...good. good.” He chuckled, running a hand over his face. “fuck. wow. alright.”

“Same,” you laughed, shaking your head. “You...you're my best friend, Red.”

“ouch. friendzoned even as you lay quivering beneath me,” he teased, and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up, dingus! Just...come here.”

Didn't have to tell him twice. He leaned down and kissed you hard, and you arched under his touch, those sweet, gentle touches getting rougher and rougher as your combined breathing grew heavier, more ragged.

It wasn't long before his boner was poking you firmly in the thigh, and you tapped it to let him know it was okay. He responded, whipping it out so fast that it made an audible  _ slap! _ against your thigh, devolving you both into a fit of giggles once more.

“We're really doing this,” you breathed, unbelieving, as he pushed your skirt up the rest of the way to pool around your hips. His cock glowed red like your toy, but it was much bigger and pulsing, precum beading on the head. He hummed as he slowly ran a finger over your lips.

“yeah. if you want.”

“If  _ you _ want.”

“sweetheart, sugartits...i  _ definitely want _ .” He laughed, plunging his finger past your lips and making you squeal delightedly. “oh holy lord almighty, do i want.”

He pumped his hand slowly, and you were already so wet and sensitive from your interrupted session that you were shaking and moaning by the time he leaned down to press the flat of his tongue against your soaked clit.

“aahh, fuck,” he swore softly, tongue circling and licking long strokes as he slipped a second bony finger inside, testing you. “y’taste fuckin’...amazing.”

“Better than mustard?” You joked between gasps.

“absolutely,” he groaned, wiggling his tongue past your lips alongside his fingers, bending and unbending them as if beckoning your orgasm. It worked, and he let out a muffled shout of surprise when you clamped around his tongue and fingers...followed by another surprised noise.

He retreated from you, chuckling as he wiped your release from his face. “damn. didn't know you were a squirter.”

“M...me, either,” you admitted, slightly high and flushed pink as Edge’s begonias. “Uh...that's...the first time I've done that. Sorry.”

“don't be. damn, you're so sexy when you're embarrassed.” He adjusted, lining up his cock with your entrance before pausing. “...do you have, like...a safeword or somethin’?”

“Do I need one?!” You squeaked, and he doubled over with laughter.

“oh, fuck, you little vanilla bean. okay, okay, i’ll go easy. just use the colors. orange for keep going, and blue for stop.”

“O...Kay…”

And then he was pressing into you, and you immediately felt overwhelmed.

“Blue!”

He stopped. “uh...sweetheart. i’m like...a quarter of an inch in.”

But he didn't move. You sighed, relaxing. Okay, this was going well. You trust him.

“...Orange.”

He pressed slower this time, leaning down to capture your lips, swirling his tongue around yours as you struggled to take his girth.

“relax...just like that...oh, fuck...y’feel so fuckin’ good,” he cooed praise into your ear, his hand moving to your head. As soon as his phalanges started to card through your hair, your whole body relaxed, and he slid the rest of the way in to the hilt with ease.

You already felt an orgasm building just from how incredibly  _ full _ you felt, and when he shifted slightly, you gasped and whined.

“color?”

“Orange!” You insisted quickly, eagerly, and he chuckled, fingers twirling to grip a chunk of your hair and pull gently. You let out a long, languid moan, and he grinned, seeing your weakness.

He pulled a little bit harder, and you arched you back, bucking as best as you could. He thrusted to match, and then the both of you were lost in each other’s bodies.

You keened beneath him as he nailed you to your couch, drawing moans, groans, yelps, and squeals from those pretty pink lips he loved so much. He was breathing heavy, trying to kiss everywhere, biting, nipping, licking your breasts until they were swollen and bruised, twisting his hand in your hair as you kissed the top of his skull.

Finally you felt your release rapidly approaching, and you clutched his ribs for leverage. He gasped and came immediately, the pumping of his cock inside you sending you into your release as well, and for a long moment, your vision was clouded with stars.

Whereas his was clouded with hearts, apparently. His eyelights had changed into little hearts as he peppered you with affection, continuing to nip and lick you with delight as you both came down from your high.

“Holy shit,” you groaned, pushing your sweaty hair from your face and kissing him, softer this time--more passionate. He sighed into the kiss, muttering his agreement to your half-spoken sentiment.

It occured to you, in a lazy, fly-by thought, that your dildo was still in the tub .

“can i be honest, babe?” He purred, nuzzling your neck as he slid out of you, collapsing against your chest. “i have no idea what's going on in stranger things.”

You let out a bark of laughter, and suddenly the two of you were giggling like idiots as you embraced in the light of the television.

“That’s okay, me either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. I need a fan.  
> Again, this is purely self-indulgent crud for me and Llama_Goddess because we're both UF!Sans trash. Love you, boo!


	24. *Power Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge trusts you enough to let you try something new...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I do actually [have a tumblr.](https://my-not-so-secret-porn-blog.tumblr.com) I use it for skeleporn and sometimes I sneak about and write things for people. This was from one of those times.  
> If you follow Tyrant_Tortoise you probably saw her reblog this bc I wrote it based off one of her posts!
> 
> Pairing: UF!Pap/Reader  
> Smut warnings: power play, dom/sub/switch, bondage, blindfolds, p in v, y'know, the usual suspects.

“…You’re serious about this?” You asked slowly, eyeing your skeletal boyfriend incredulously.

Edge scoffed, rolling his eyelights at your disbelief. “I DO NOT LIE, NOR DO I JEST ABOUT THINGS LIKE THIS. HOWEVER, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO I–”

“No!” You said quickly, earning a smug smirk from him. “I, uh, I definitely want to. I was just surprised.”

Surprised didn’t even begin to describe it. When you had jokingly mentioned at breakfast how much you wanted to dominate him in bed someday, you hadn’t thought he would actually take you seriously. Let alone that he would go for it that night!

And yet, when you walked in from work that evening, he had been waiting for you, a selection of items laid out on the bedside table and a proposition for you.

“I HOPE YOU KNOW I CAN TAKE CONTROL WHENEVER I WISH,” he said as you ran a hand over the items curiously.

“I know,” you said sweetly, giddy excitement welling in your chest. Boy howdy, you knew. Edge wrecked you so hard once that you were fairly certain you would never walk straight again…all because you had forgotten to call him ‘boss’ once during the roleplay you were doing.

You selected something simple: rope, blindfold, and a collar/leash set.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THAT?” He asked, and you were more than a little satisfied with the hint of hesitance in his voice.

“If you aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to do this,” you said gently, both sidestepping his question and seeming to soothe his fear.

“I CAN HANDLE ANYTHING YOU COULD THROW AT ME, IDIOT,” he sniffed, as if offended by the suggestion that anything scared him.

But you knew better. Even though you had been together for two years now, he had never once entertained the idea of switching roles with you. Sure, he’d been a power bottom more than once, but that wasn’t what this was. This was actually releasing control, and knowing what you knew about his life and the world he came from…you knew that meant he trusted you completely.

“YOU…ARE GOOD AT THAT,” he gasped as you drew the knot tighter, securing him firmly to the headboard. You leaned down to kiss him gently, fingers dipping to massage him reassuringly.

“I learned from the best~”

-click-

He looked surprised that you had managed to slip the collar into place without him noticing, but before he could speak you shushed him gently, sliding the blindfold down over his sockets.

“Last chance to back out, Bone Daddy.”

“THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS NEVER BACKS DOWN FROM A CHALLENGE!”

“Good. No more playing.”

Edge made a strangled noise as you suddenly dragged your tongue along his clavicle, down his sternum. This was something special–he never gave you much of a chance to explore his bones, beyond what he instructed you to do.

“DON’T TEASE ME, PET!” He snapped.

He cried out in surprise as you bit down on the rib you’d been kissing, drawing a pained moan from his teeth. “Don’t tell me what to do. And you call me ‘madam’ tonight.”

He was silent, so you squeezed his spine, digging your nails in until he gasped and tried to buck you off involuntarily. You planted your thighs firmly over his hips, and he stilled.

“Edge?”

“YES…MADAM.”

“Color?”

“…ORANGE.”

“Good.” Having received the go ahead, you quickly vested him of his pants, tossing them unceremoniously to the floor. Then you slid off of him, admiring the view.

“WH…WHERE DID YOU GO?” He asked, slight stammer betraying his worry.

“I’m right here, don’t worry. Just enjoying the view.” His jaw clicked shut, a red flush overtaking his skull and joints as you teased one hand up his femur, brushing over his pubis delicately before returning to rub along the inside of his spine. “You gonna make something nice for me to fuck, or am I gonna have to sit on your face?”

That was all the coaxing he needed, apparently, because without a word you watched the magic travel from his soul to creep down his spine, swirling around your hand before settling in his pelvis. Before long his cock had formed, and you hummed in delight as you drew your finger down the shaft.

“Oh? We’re doing a cock today?” You asked, amused at his sputtered excuse.

“I-I THOUGHT–”

“Relax, I’m only teasing.” You giggled, before diving in with both hands to explore his ribs, his spine, his clavicle, his pelvis…you kissed and nipped and licked until his body shuddered, relaxing with every touch of your fingers and lips. “There we go. Much better…now…”

You licked the length of his member and he shuddered and groaned, arms straining against the ropes. God, you just wanted to go ahead and wreck him until he couldn’t breathe, but you–

Wait. You’re in charge. You totally can.

He squeaked in surprise as you suddenly buried his cock inside you, an adorable noise you wanted to hear more of later. Due to lack of foreplay on your end (not to say you weren’t plenty turned on) it was rougher than either of you were used to, and you both made a shocked noise before adjusting to the tightness of your cunt.

“Fuck…” He muttered, a rare use of his inside voice. The ropes strained as he tried to grab your hips and move you, but even though he could snap them easily he chose to lay back. “FUUUUCK.”

You wasted no more time, clicking the leash to his collar to force him closer and crash a dominant kiss down onto his teeth that had you both panting. He whined with need as you chose to stay still on his cock, and his hips bucked to pick up your slack a tiny bit. He swore under his breath, muttering.

“What’s that, baby?” You cooed breathlessly. “I can’t hear you.”

“I SAID FUCK ME!” He demanded, and you outright laughed, causing him to groan in frustration and fall back against the pillows. “ORANGE! ORANGE ORANGE ORANGE!”

“That’s a consent scale, sugar skull, not a way to make me go faster.” His frazzled noises made you laugh again, and you slowly pumped up and down on his cock. “Are you telling me what to do again?”

“YOU LIKE IT WHEN I TELL YOU WHAT TO DO!”

“You’re so noisy.” You sigh, stopping completely. “I’m never this noisy when you’re on top.”

“WELL DON’T STOP!”

“Who’s in charge?” You asked, sliding off of him. His cock bounced free with a wet slap and he groaned in frustration.

“ME IN A MINUTE IF YOU DON’T GET TO IT!”

“Nah. I’m not really feeling it anymore. Maybe I’ll go read.” You lied, running your fingers over his sternum delicately.

He whimpered as your hand caressed his soul gently through his ribs, his cock twitching against his pelvis. “FINE! YOU’RE IN CHARGE. I’LL BE GOOD, JUST DON’T STOP!”

“What do we say?”

“DON’T STOP…PLEASE?” A pause as you waited. “…MADAM?”

“Good boy.”

You slid onto him easier this time, and you groaned as he filled you. He felt amazing, his magic buzzing and whirring with impatience as you slowly worked up and down. How much can you tease him? Your hand tightens on the leash, making him curl and buck up into you sharply.

“AH, FUCK THIS.”

The ropes snap effortlessly as he suddenly grabs you, throwing you down on the mattress and following eagerly, kissing and biting and eliciting surprised, lewd moans from you.

“E-Edge–!”

“WE TRIED, CAN’T SAY WE DIDN’T,” he huffed, thrusting hard into you and reveling in your screams. “WE CAN TRY…AGAIN…LATER…”

Every word was paused by a calculated, rough thrust as he fucked you, phalanges digging into your sides as you squealed underneath him in delight.

“YOU LIKE THIS BETTER, DON’T YOU, PET?” He hissed in your ear, and a moan was all you could muster to respond. “YOU LIKE IT WHEN I TELL YOU WHAT TO DO? WHEN I’M IN CHARGE?”

You do. You definitely do.

 


	25. *The Scientific Method

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red's always been a scientist at heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was gonna take a nap but guess what I didn't do that and instead I wrote this. 
> 
> Commission for Frankpanioncube on Tumblr! Companion picture of fem!Red [here!!](https://graciedoesart.tumblr.com/post/175158595591/whatcha-starin-at-over-there-sweet-thing)
> 
> Pairing: Fem!UF!Sans/Reader  
> Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Coming out  
> Smut: ecto-vag, fingering, f/f, cunnilingus

“I think I’m gay.”

“what?” Red looked at you quizzically, completely caught off guard, her cigarette unlit between her teeth as her zippo burned in her hand. “sweetheart, you ain’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I’m thinking plenty straight! Or gay!” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I’m tired of being told I’m crazy because I’m grieving. Everybody keeps acting like I can’t be happy, but my husband was dead for 7 years before they pulled the plug! I’m not crazy for wanting it all to be over!”

You buried your face in your hands, and your BFF finally lit her cigarette, unsure how to handle this. You were still wearing the same black dress from the funeral, how could she possibly take you seriously? You had always been, as long as she had known you, the perfect picture of a doting wife: strong, compassionate, and faithful even though your husband was in a coma.

“I just want to be true to myself for once,” you whimpered. “I’ve…I’ve been gay since I could crawl.”

“really?” She furrowed her brow, confused. “but why marry the guy?”

“Because I thought it would be different once I got married,” you sighed, drawing your knees to your chest. “But it wasn’t. When the accident happened, and he didn’t wake up, I was devastated…but I was secretly wishing it had been me instead. I didn’t want to live this lie anymore…the perfect wife, the perfect daughter, the perfect, straight, christian girl everyone wanted me to be. Pulling the plug…it felt like maybe I could release all that, but people keep acting like there’s no way it could be as relieving as it was to release him from his torment.”

Red slowly took a drag of her cigarette, thinking about the best way to handle this. She could take you at face value and fuck your brains out, but that might be...problematic in the morning, if you really were saying this out of grief. She could also try to reason with you, but it seems like that would only make you angry and she isn't interested in adding to your stress.

“look, sweet stuff, i won’t tell ya what to do,” she sighed, wrapping one skeletal arm around your shoulder as your family started to file out of the church behind you. Whispered condolences filled the air as they passed, and you hardly even acknowledged them. “you know m’here for ya.”

You turned and buried your face in her generous chest, squeezing her close. She closed her sockets, enjoying the soft scent of apple pie that wafted from your hair.

God, she loves you.

“I know, Red. Thanks.”

* * *

“want some burgers? or some fries?” Red offered gently, and you shook your head as best as you could from where it was buried in your arms at her dining room table. “c’mon, sweetheart, you gotta eat somethin’. ya didn't eat at the wake, and y’know if you don't eat now then when boss comes home she's gonna forcefeed ya.”

Silence and stillness for a long moment, and then you slowly lifted your head, and she had to strain to catch your decision. “...garlic fries?”

“comin’ right up,” Red purred, smoothing your hair softly behind your ear as you laid your head down again.

_“I think I'm gay.”_

The words had been ringing in her skull for the past hour and a half since the wake. The less you talked about it, the more she was convinced you were really telling the truth instead of just speaking from grief.

She had to admit, it excited her. To think that there was a chance, even a small one, that you might be interested in returning her feelings? She'd been pining after you for two years, knowing that nothing she did would work...or at least, she had thought.

You ate the fries slowly, and Red just watched you in contemplative silence. Boss came home and spared you a pitying glance, knowing what today signified, but seeing you were already in good hands she had chosen not to say anything and retired to her room.

“I'm still gay,” you joked, as if she had been attempting to feed you to get the truth out of you.

She giggled, covering it slightly with her hand. “is that so?”

You nodded, pushing the half-finished plate of fries away. “I know I am.”

“well girls are pretty nice. squishy and soft, and they smell good.”

You rolled your eyes at her attempt to deflect as you scooted around the breakfast nook to squeeze up next to her.

She wrapped an arm around your shoulder once more, and you closed your eyes, taking in the faint scent of berries and the softness of her ectobody through her sweaterdress. She was right, girls are squishy and soft and smell good...but it isn't about all girls.

It's about her.

* * *

The time came for you to head home, but you were dragging your feet. Red knew why, of course--an empty house was all that waited for you, full of condolences cards and freezable lasagnas and the unmoving eyes of your husband’s pictures.

It was no place for a confused and frustrated woman in mourning.

“do you want to stay?” She asked before she could stop herself, causing you to stop in your tracks and blink owlishly up at her.

You bit your lip and nodded, tears pricking your eyes immediately as you strode back across the room to throw your arms around her. Red teetered for a moment, but ultimately kept her balance, returning your embrace with fervor, holding you close as you sobbed into her shoulder.

She wasted no time in gathering you completely into her arms, falling onto the couch and holding you close as you finally, finally released all the pent up frustration from the day.

“that's it, sweetheart, let it all out,” she muttered, running her fingers through your perfect, soft hair. “m’here. it’s alright.”

And it was alright. It had never been more right. You, in her arms, holding her as if she was the only thing anchoring you to reality.

Damn, she loves you so much.

To Red, there had never been a more perfect moment than right then--the way you fell asleep with your head tucked beneath her chin, buried in her breasts as if they were the most comfortable pillows in the world. She could die right then and she would die happy…

But she's glad she doesn't, because suddenly you stirred in her arms, pulling her closer, eyes opening slowly, hazed with a look that sent a jolt straight to her pelvis.

“...hey, cutie. what's up? can't sleep?” She breathed, suppressing the urge to shudder as your fingertips raked gently over her spine through her dress. You don't answer, instead making a tiny moan that makes her want to ravish you on the spot, and when coupled with the way you pressed against her breasts...she had a hard time controlling herself.

She sighed and tried to disentangle, moving to get up but only succeeding in falling directly on top of you. Shit.

You looked so cute and surprised, and damn, as if being around you didn't turn her on enough, you were so soft against her, pinned like a tiny mouse beneath her.

And all those things you've been saying are still dancing in her head.

“...Red?” You asked, quiet but without an ounce of fear.

“you really think you're gay, kitten?” She asked, eyelights flashing with something you didn't quite recognize.

You nodded slowly, thrill building in your chest the longer she pressed her weight and her perfect breasts against you.

She chuckled, and the sheer intent behind it...you were struck with the sudden desire to be very, very naked.

“well, i ain't so convinced…” she mused,adjusting to drag one finger over your clavicle, playing with the lace on your dress. “but there's one way we can find out, yeah?”

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry, your palms sweating as she gave you _that look._ The look she gave those girls she dated, the hungry look you had so often wished to be on the receiving end of.

Damn, it felt better than you ever could have imagined.

“Please?” You pleaded, and without delay she was kissing you, hard, and you couldn't help but moan breathlessly against her teeth as her skeletal fingers laced with yours to pin your hands just above your head.

Her tongue manifested quickly, dancing against yours and taking your breath away, the cold silver stud in the middle making you mewl and wonder what else that tongue can do.

She didn't keep you waiting long, pinning your hands with magic as she moved to swipe at your neck, savoring the sweet shudders beneath her touch.

You yelped as you suddenly hit her mattress, having fallen through one of her shortcuts with an enthusiastic push.

Her hands were really roaming immediately, much bolder now that Boss won't possibly walk in on the two of you. She sucked in a breath as she realized you weren't wearing a bra with the dress you had chosen for the wake.

“what a naughty girl, wearing no bra?” She teased, shoving the top of the dress down to reveal your two sweet, perfect breasts, gently caressing them and delighting in your sensitivity.

“Me?” You managed to laugh. “What about you, and that dress?”

Red smirked, bringing one hand to tease over the keyhole opening on her chest. “what, this old thing? just threw it on ‘cause it was black.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed again, before gasping as her hands returned to massage your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they were thoroughly swollen with arousal. “Oohhh...Red, please, _please…_ ”

Begging? Oh yeah, she likes that.

“well, that's that, then,” Red shrugged, leaning back on top of you and crossing her arms. “you’re definitely gay. we can stop now.”

Your face was so hurt and betrayed and angry that it was almost comical. “Wh...what?”

“i said it’s obvious you're gay from how you're reacting. test over, right?”

“No! I, uh…” you seemed hesitant, as if you were grasping wildly at anything to hold onto this.

She took pity on you.

“well…” she drawled slowly, bringing one hand up to tap her mandible thoughtfully. “i mean, it _has_ been seven years since anyone other than yourself touched you, right?”

“Yes,” you breathed, relieved for the way out she provided. “Yes, not since Carter. I...could just be touch-starved.”

There was no doubt that you were touch-starved--just putting her arm around you had been a difficult maneuver to attempt at first, and she knew for a fact you had been nothing but completely faithful to your husband the whole time he was alive.

Dedication like that is what drew her to you in the first place.

“a’ight, you're right, that's not enough evidence to go on,” she mused mercifully, arms unfolding so her warm ceramic hands could slip beneath your dress, pooling the material of the skirt around your waist as she pushed it up slowly, enjoying every second of unwrapping you.

Damn, those black lace panties were downright sinful.

She wanted to worship you, or at least take a picture of the angelic look on your face, as if a virgin on your wedding night being touched for the very first time--excited, yet anxious.

“relax, princess, red’s gonna take good care of ya,” she purred, hooking her thumbs into your panties and slowly moving to drag them down your legs. You drew your legs up, pressing them together apprehensively.

“I...nobody’s looked at me in seven years…” you mumbled, your excuse half hearted and shy. Adorable.

She shushed you gently, prying your legs apart with a soft yet firm press of her hands…

...and you were just as beautiful as she ever could have imagined. She snickered, running one finger slowly down the meticulously manicured mound.

“nobody in seven years, and yet you've kept such good care? did you plan on seducing me all along?”

You flushed a deep crimson and covered your face as best you could with your hands still bound by her magic. Oh, damn, you are way too cute.

You squeaked as, without warning, you find out exactly what that tongue can do, arms flying from your face as your whole body arched in response to Red pressing the flat of her pierced tongue against your sensitive lower lips.

The second you arched, she gripped your waist and pulled you in, lapping lewdly at your slit and slowly using her elbows to press your legs wider and gain better access. Within seconds you fell victim to her practiced swipes, your whole body seizing in pure bliss as her piercing rubbed that sensitive spot in a way your fingers never could.

“R...Red,” you moaned, and she found herself moaning right back, the sound of your wrecked voice making her summoned magic twitch and throb. God, you made her so wet so fast, just by saying her name…

You tasted, looked, and sounded so sweet when you finally came undone, and she happily worked her tongue inside you until your release slowed to a slight shudder of aftershocks. You were panting and shaking, and she pulled back to admire her handiwork (tonguework?).

“now we know you're gay,” Red purred, leaning down to kiss your forehead as your breathing slowed. “you’re welcome~”

She moved to get off, already thinking of how she should go about aftercare. Maybe a nice bubble bath? A blanket fresh from the dryer? She could cuddle you until you fall asleep and let you clean up at your own pace…

“Wait!”

Red shrieked in surprise as you grabbed her arm, pulling her quickly back to the bed. “wh-wha--?”

“I…” you bit your lip, hair disheveled as your dress slowly fell back into place. “We already said that...anyone could touch me and I'd probably like it? I mean...even Carter used to give me oral…”

Red raised a brow at you, unsure of what to make of your hesitant pleading for continuation. Did you want her to get, like, _more gay_ with it? By your own logic, anything she could do to you without toys would be pretty much the same as something a male partner could.

“I...please, Red...I want to see your body.” You said quietly, a faint blush hinting in your cheeks as you leaned closer, fingertips brushing over her ecto-body that teased through holes in the arms of her dress. “I need to...see how it makes me feel.”

...oh.

Red's sockets widen a bit in surprise as her skull erupts into a gorgeous scarlet flush, apparently not having even considered you touching _her_.

“Is this okay?” You asked, suddenly bashful as your hands traveled to the tops of her knee highs, brushing the bottom of her skirt.

She nodded, sitting up on her knees a bit so you could slide your fingers beneath her skirt. “if it’s you? always.”

You giggled a little nervously at her admission, and continued on with a little more confidence. She was back to sporting her usual smirk as she held up her arms, letting you drag her dress up and over her hips, revealing the tiniest lace thong, then a matching bra that strained to hold her perfect breasts as you pushed it higher, up and over her head.

The dress fell, but you weren't concerned with that anymore. Your fingers ran over her soft ecto-body gently, experimentally.

This was all pretty silly, you thought to yourself suddenly, as she shivered beneath your touches. You already knew you were gay, and you knew she didn't really need any more convincing. But the game was too deep to voice that thought, and the way you could feel yourself getting wet all over again just from ghosting your hands over her thick hips and minute tummy chub…

“I'm so jealous of your figure,” you found yourself saying, and even though you were distracted by the soft give of her hips at the moment, you just knew she had rolled her eyelights at you.

“jealous don't mean it gets ya hot, sweet thing,” she teased, taking the initiative to unhook her bra, sliding it off and onto the floor. You gasped softly as her breasts bounced free, one nipple boasting a modest golden stud to match her golden tooth.

She took your hands, and you followed obediently to run them over her body, thumbs mimicking her earlier ministrations.

She was caught off guard when you suddenly leaned in for a kiss, pinching her nipples with a slow pressure that had her groaning against your soft lips. Damn, you're pretty good for never having been with a girl. She supposed you were probably just mimicking things that you like on yourself.

Emboldened by her positive response, you had her flat against the mattress in no time. You pushed aside the lace of her panties and sucked in a breath.

“...you’re beautiful,” you breathed, and Red chuckled nervously, grabbing your hand and guiding it over her thighs.

You took the hint, thumbing her slit gently at first, admiring it--you hadn't been lying, she really was beautiful.

And so slick, your thumb sliding up and down her folds without delay. She muffled a moan in her throat, face flushed as you used two thumbs to spread her pussy, admiring it as it opened, like the gorgeous red curtains of a world-famous theatre.

You had only ever touched yours, but you had at least seven years of research with _that_ subject, so maybe the things you like will be good?

You gently teased her folds, testing her wetness as she purred beneath you, knee high socks rubbing gently against your sides as she wrapped her legs around you to encourage you.

Well, here goes nothing.

She made a small noise of contentment as you slid one finger inside of her, tiny coos of arousal falling from her teeth.

“i ain't...gonna break if you use more, kitten,” she moaned quietly, a fire alight in her sockets as she looked at you with that look that still thrilled you. Your heart was pounding as you obeyed, sliding another finger in, and then another at her prompting.

What might be a lot for you was just right for her, and when you had three fingers curled inside her, scissoring and pumping at a regular pace, she finally started to arch and whimper.

A flash of gold caught your eye and you smirked--of course she had pierced her clit. That seems just like her.

Red gasped and moaned brokenly as your tongue circled her piercing, her thighs tightening against your head as you lapped at the sensitive nub, still pumping three fingers inside her and setting her up for a crescendo, building and building as she gripped your hair with one hand and the edge of the mattress with the other.

She couldn't help but moan your name, completely and utterly lost in the disbelief of this moment--she had accepted this was a dream, after all, since there's no way you could be this good at licking cunt when you'd literally only ever seen your own.

So what she says and does doesn't matter, right? She can let herself loose into this wet dream and just--

“fuck, _fuck_ , kitten, you're too damn good at that,” she moaned, grinding upward into your ministrations enthusiastically. “ya look so pretty down there, sweet thing. ya like the taste of my cunt?”

A small moan of appreciation was her answer, and she shuddered as the moan vibrated against her. It would normally take a lot more than this to get her off, but she could smell your arousal, could still taste it on her tongue, and as your small fingers strained to plunge deeper inside of her she found herself losing it in bliss.

You were so gentle as you worked her through her orgasm, and it was so different than the freaks she normally took to bed. Every stroke, every kiss or press of your tongue...she could feel how much you wanted her, how much you cared about her.

And when the fog cleared, she was struck with the sudden realization that this wasn't a dream.

You were sitting up slowly, sheepishly wiping her release from your face where it had squirted, looking surprised and shy. “Did I...do it right?”

Red laughed, short and loud, before pulling you to her and wiping the cum away so she could kiss you. “holy shit. you...you really are gay.”

You snickered. “You sure about that?”

The question was playful, and Red wanted so badly to bite. You squeaked as she flipped you to be big spoon, hand sliding sensually down your stomach to cup your sensitive mound, wasting no time in running two phalanges down your slick folds and plunging inside, drawing a bashful moan from your lips.

She wanted to record the noises you made and use them as her ringtone.

“i dunno, baby,” she purred, nipping and kissing your neck and shoulder as she set a regular pace of circular motion, causing you to spasm and press back against her with another gentle pleasured groan. “think i need a whole night of making you make those noises. scientific method, you know?”

You could only whimper in response, turning your head slightly to accept her rough kiss. It's always been her, you knew from the moment you met her.

And as she drew lascivious noises from your lips and shuddering orgasms from your neglected body, you could only think about one thing…

...you’re glad she's such a thorough scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! I've never written f/f before and it turns out it is a LOT different than writing a guy eating out or fingering a girl, even if the base personality like Red's is the same. I did have to do a lot of research, and man, I have never seen so many vaginas in my life.  
> In any case, I hope it satisfied! Let me know if you want more of fem!Red! (Or fem!boss, I know she was only there for like two seconds but still)


	26. *A Big Softie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your poor datemate has been all stressed out lately...but he won't let you take some of that stress off his shoulders? Perhaps you can convince him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boss is just a big softie that doesn't know how vanilla sex works lol.  
> What? Sex without a Dom/sub dynamic? Blasphemy???  
> This was born of a post I made where I mentioned that if you get UF!Papyrus to drop gis Dom persona, then he's loud AF during sex.
> 
> Pairing: UF!Papyrus/Reader  
> Smut: vanilla, p in v, Blowjob, stress relief

You could hear the door slam, and a strangled, frustrated noise. Then the sound of boots hitting the floor at high speed.

Oh boy.

Boss had become increasingly stressed out lately. He hated to talk about work and yet the last few weeks he’s done nothing but that--the human government blocking his rights as the Captain of the Royal Guard, his title being stripped and reissued seven different times as legislature argued over his status like he were some toy they could play with and forget about.

It had been a recurring struggle since you met him, but the fact that the world was now in crunch time to pass these laws made it that much more stressful--this was the last time the decision would be revised, and if it didn’t go in his favor he would lose everything--his job, his status, his diplomatic immunity, his ability to protect the royal family and Frisk, as well as the ability to protect you. Without his title and rights, he was like every other monster--banned from using their magic in public. Even if it’s for the greater good.

You could hear him shouting at Red down the hall about his socks, and Red grouching and grumbling back in a tone too low to truly hear.

You hummed, displeased. Often you had offered to relieve his stress, but when he got this worked up, for some reason he refused to have sex with you until he resolved it some other way. You know it would be so much easier if he would just let you help him relax…

He entered the room quickly, hardly acknowledging you as you stood from the bed to greet him, unhooking his scarf from his neck and hanging it carefully, before violently removing his shirt and pants while grumbling with annoyance. He tossed them to the floor, apparently too stressed to even bother with the laundry basket, and you bit your lip, concerned.

He's getting worse than you've ever seen him. Time to bring out the big guns.

“Papy…”

He froze in place, heaving a big sigh as he turned around sheepishly, blushing a little as he always does when you use that nickname.

“I didn't mean to ignore you,” he mumbled apologetically. “I was just…”

He ran a hand over his skull and sighed, frustration screaming from every angle of his body. You reached forward slightly, brushing the front of his tank top lightly, all the way down to tease the waistband of his boxerbriefs.

He stiffened even as he leaned into the touch, and you paused, silently seeking approval.

“...I’m...not in the mood,” he said, with difficulty, even as the glow in his underwear proves it a lie. You raised your brow and he turned around, bringing a hand to his mouth and the other to rest on his iliac crest as if thinking.

“Papy,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I don't like lies.”

He groaned with frustration again, scratching his skull, and ignored you, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and run a hand over his scars and skull.

You took the moment to flounce over and straddle him with ease, his hands quickly finding your waist and drawing you in so you wouldn't fall. He looked at you in mild shock as his hands fell on bare thighs, your sleep shirt riding up just slightly to reveal you had forgone panties. He bowed his head to rest on your shoulder with a groan.

“...Why are you doing this?” You asked softly, hands tracing his shoulder blades in slow massaging movements, tingling up his neck and over his skull as you gave the side of his face a smooch as he took in your scent. “I can tell you’re stressed...we haven't made love in weeks...I want you...and you obviously want me.”

You emphasized the point by rocking lightly against the obvious bulge in his boxerbriefs, and he let out a long sigh, hands tightening on your waist as you felt his brow furrow and his teeth press gently against your neck.

“I know it seems counterintuitive,” he sighed finally, wrapping you up completely in his arms, mumbling the words against your skin. “...I feel...like I am not in control of my life at the moment. I feel weak, and...how am I supposed to command this bedroom in such a pathetic state?”

You hummed, considering his words and pursing your lips. “...who said you have to command it?”

He chuckled bitterly, leaning back and bringing a hand to capture your chin, making you look at him like he'd done a thousand times. Arousal immediately flared in your belly at the obvious power move, the submissive side of you growing bashful under his gaze.

But his eyes, they held such exhausted frustration, in place of the confidence you had grown to expect from your loyal Dom. He sighed and dropped his hand, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I cannot please you as I am. I cannot give you the confidence and strength you need from me.” His gaze was downcast as the fallen hand took yours, thumb brushing the back of your hand. “I'm just another powerless monster. I'm in no condition to be of any use to you...I am so, so sorry--”

He squeaked in confusion as you flicked him right between the sockets, angry glare and scowl settling on his previously downtrodden features.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?” He shrieked, raising his voice to his usual tone for the first time.

“Because you're dumb as hell!” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “We haven't had sex in weeks because you're worried about not being dominant enough?!”

“THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT, ISN'T IT?” He growled, pushing you off his lap and crossing his own arms and turning away.

You rolled your eyes, though he didn't see it.

Your gentle hand on his mandible drew his gaze to meet your eyes, and his frustrated shell cracked just a tiny bit as he saw the genuine affection in your gaze.

“Papyrus,” you said carefully, voice barely above a whisper. “I just want  _ you. _ You, in any form. Yes, I think we both prefer being fully immersed in our dynamic, but that doesn't mean that I don't sometimes wanna worship  _ you,  _ you know.”

He stared at you blankly even as he leaned into your touch. Finally, apparently getting nothing more from your face, he sighed. “I DON’T GET IT.”

“Don't get what?”

“WHAT YOU MEAN.”

“...About wanting to worship you?”

He rolled his eyelights, voice falling back down to a more comfortable level now that his anger at your flick had waned. “No, I get that. You worship me all the time, it’s part of our dynamic. I just don't understand what you mean by not having to control it.”

You clicked your tongue, sliding off the bed to regard him critically. Did he really just not even understand the concept of making love without the context of power dynamics? Or switching? It's possible, you suppose...he probably never had a normal partner, the way the underground was, and you had been his first human.

“Then just...let me show you, okay?”

You reached out and ran your fingers gently over his bones, hooking your fingers into the straps of his tank top, pulling him just slightly forward so you could place a kiss on his teeth. He stiffened even as his sockets closed, small moan bubbling up from his chest.

You climbed back in his lap, pushing on his chest until he got the picture, scooting back onto the bed as you crawled over him, both desperate to keep your lips pressed to his teeth, a definite need for each other’s comfort rising to the surface and setting your cheeks on fire.

As he settled on the pillows, he grasped your hands, likely to push you off, and you almost heard the protest welling in his throat.

“Shhh...let me,” you cooed, pressing your finger to his teeth as you backed up a little, other hand sliding down to stroke his hardening magic in his boxer briefs. 

He shuddered at your touch, and it appeared like something clicked as he watched your expression change. He laid back against the pillows without a word, hands barely brushing your arms as you got to work loosing his cock from his underwear, breathing a sigh of awe as it sprung free, always impressive and otherworldly, glowing a deep rusty orange against your hand as you gripped it.

The reaction was immediate the second you touched it, his whole body tensing and shivering as your fingers grasped him softly, pushing and pulling slowly as you lowered your mouth to swirl your tongue over his head.

“Wait...w-wait…” he groaned, but shook his head when you looked up.

Well, it wasn't your safeword. “I don't hear a safeword, Papy.”

“No…” he huffed, his hand finding yours and pressing it harder on his cock. “No, I...guess you don't.”

With a pleased hum, you rewarded him with a deep plunge into your mouth, and he automatically covered a groan with one hand in embarrassment. Hmmm...that’s the second lewd noise he's made since you started. Maybe you're doing something right.

You've never made him moan and groan so desperately before. He usually wore a careful, emotionless mask as he commanded you in bed, though it would always fall once the scene was over--he was extremely good about aftercare and reassurance, his love for you repeated so many times that you're certain it’s physically written on the neurons in your brain. But during the act he was all careful composure, never breaking or bending save for the dominant growling that usually marked his orgasms.

And so this was probably just as new to him as it was to you--the hand in your hair was gentle and unsure, instead of demanding and confident. It didn't shove you farther but rather tugged shyly, as if asking politely. He didn't hold your hands back or slap them away from gripping his iliac crests, instead angling his pelvis towards you, straining for more friction as you gently swirled your tongue around his generous length, bobbing slowly and carefully, gentler than he had ever let you do.

He swore softly, face flushed as you peeked up at him, using all that practice to slowly press his cock down your throat, swallowing around his thickness and making him shudder all over.

When you pulled off of him, he actually whined, a small whimper in the back of his throat, making him flush more as he grew conflicted. You could see the look on his face, battling between how much he enjoyed that and his never-ending need for control.

“Don't worry, Papy, we aren't done yet,” you giggled, climbing up his front to kiss him sweetly. He made a little noise of defeat, his hand sliding up to cradle your neck gently.

“I don't...I don't know how to do this,” he mumbled, so quiet you almost couldn't hear the tremble in his voice.

“That's okay, I'll show you, don't worry,” you muttered back in a soothing tone, and his eyelights met yours, full of need and tension that you just wanted to kiss away. You took his hand and placed a sweet kiss on it gently, as your own slithered down your front to guide the bulbous head of his cock to slide along your heat and feel how wet you were. “See? All I need is you, just you. That's all I really ever need. We don't have to be master and slave all the time...we can just be in love.”

He groaned as you rocked down slightly, pressing the tip slowly past your lips and sinking into place with a lewd moan of your own, both harmonizing in sounds of relief.

“You feel so good,” he whimpered softly, arms wrapping around your waist as he swore softly, holding you but not impeding your movements as you began to move just a tiny bit. His head bowed to press against your shoulder and soft whimpers fell from his teeth as you slowly rode him, your body clenching and spasming as you gasped, the new sensation of the slow pace feeling like sweet torture against your abuse-trained pussy.

It felt like an eternity that you stayed like that, exchanging soft kisses as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the room growing dark as you moaned and muttered to each other. Every movement drew increasingly delectable noises from your stone-faced lover, and you found yourself running your fingers over his skull more than once, trying to memorize the vulnerable, lovestruck expression he wore, closing your eyes to dedicate the sounds to memory.

You gasped as you finally picked up the pace, just a bit, hilting him completely on each thrust and feeling him press that perfect spot, the malleable ridges of his cock making you shudder as he kissed your clavicle, heated moans brushing across your skin like whispered poetry. He adjusted to lay you down, and you naturally parted your legs wider so he could sink pelvis-deep, but instead of destroying you like usual, he continued the gentle pace you had set.

“Papy...” you whispered, a hand brushing his spiked vertebrae and cradling his skull.

“Yes, my dove?” He panted, his eyelights flashing hearts as he brushed his fingers over the skin of your hips, pushing up your pajama shirt to explore the softness of your breasts.

“I love you,” you whimpered, closing your eyes against the expected backlash--terms of affection without express permission are usually off-limits during scenes.

He chuckled a bit against your shoulder, and then moved to kiss you deeply, squeezing you softly. “...I love you, too.”

You smirked, a little surprised but mostly pleased. You had had sex quite a bit, but this was different, you felt. As the both of you slowly enjoyed each other's bodies, your pants and moans synchronizing and blending with the chorus of murmured affection, you knew this was making love. And God, you loved him, your Intent washing over him and sensitizing his bones, making him cry out when you finally came around his cock, his own release surprising him alongside yours.

You bit your lip, stifling a giggle at his flushed face, trying not to laugh at the embarrassing noises you both made just now, but to your surprise…

...he actually chuckled. He hung his head against your shoulder and let out a shocked laugh, and you giggled alongside him.

“My God...I’ve never made a noise like that in my life,” he laughed, turning to kiss you as he effortlessly pulled you close and flopped on his side, slipping out of you as he turned you to spoon properly, peppering your shoulders with kisses.

“Do you feel better?” You breathed, skin tingling everywhere he touched. “Because  _ I _ feel  _ awesome.” _

“Every moment with you is one to cherish, but that…” he sighed. “I'll have to commit this to memory.”

“The idea of sex without play? Or this specific experience?” You asked, snuggling into his arms as his fingers massaged your skin gently out of habit.

“Mmm...both,” he said softly, placing another kiss on your sweaty hair. “Along with the image of you atop me, sweating and beautiful. And the way you felt, tortuously slow and tight and perfect.”

“You don't have to memorize it,” you snorted, kissing his forearm softly. “We can do this whenever you want, you know.”

“Whenever I want?” He hummed, tightening his grip a bit and then sliding one hand down to tease against your puffy, pleased lips, watching with satisfaction as his magic dripped from it.

“Whenever,” you confirmed with a sigh, turning back slightly to kiss his cheekbone as you widened your legs a bit to allow him the chance to play with your slit.

He chuckled, and you gasped as he plunged three fingers inside without warning, spreading and stretching you as he pumped rhythmically, drawing startled moans from your lips. When he spoke, his voice was a soft whisper, a soft affection tainted by the curl of his teeth as he chuckled.

“Then what about right now, my dove?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, it's okay to be vanilla every now and then ❤


	27. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans never believed in Destiny. Too much happy endings and not enough righteous retribution for the horrible person he is.  
> But you, his best friend, so small and perfect...might change his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a commission for @mavi-mav on Tumblr! Thank you for commissioning me and for your patience!  
> The prompt was Bara!Red with smol reader, and it was supposed to have smut but it didn't feel right to put it in here, so we agreed to extend it into multiple parts, so this is part one! There are at least 2 more planned parts.
> 
> Pairing: Bara!UF!Sans/reader

He supposed he'd always known he loved you.

It shouldn't have been a surprise to him when he realized it, but honestly, he doesn't fault himself. He's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy kind of guy, so whenever he imagined falling in love it had always ended badly, so he never took any kind of fateful romantic starter scenario seriously.

The barista that wrote her number on his cup? Probably a joke number anyway.

The bartender who told him he’d listen to his problems any day, but he'd rather it was over morning coffee? Most likely a joke meant to drive him away so the guy could get some peace and quiet.

He'd touched hands with a handsome human at the game store once, over the last copy of a game he really wanted, and they offered to buy it so he could come over and play it...to which he had promptly handed it over, in no mood to be teased.

Destiny was a myth. Destiny was happy endings and good fortune, things that only happened to good people, not people like him.

And then there was you. Beautiful, hilarious, perfect, one-of-a-kind...tiny little you. He could touch thumbs and fingers if he grasped around your waist, but considering how insanely huge he is compared to most humans he supposed that wasn't so strange--six foot ten with a slouch, wider than most doorways, palms of his hands bigger than your entire face.

When he had his Romantic Comedy Opening Scene Moment with you, he'd tried to shrug it off like the rest. After all, it was the proper reaction to catch somebody when they fell, anyone woulda done it if he hadn't been standing there. And that dip, it was natural for how big he was to underestimate your weight and prepare a little too much give--maybe it looked like a perfect waltz dip, but really it was just bad math.

...right?

In any case, you clearly thought it was hilarious when your friend walking with you shouted “When's the wedding?” because you laughed. You laughed and thanked him and offered to buy him a coffee and...well, he didn't say no. He'd been on his way to the coffee shop anyway, so why not?

It isn't Destiny. Shut up, inner voices.

From then on you had become fast friends. 

More than once he'd snuck you into the movies by letting you sit inside his ribcage behind his shirt, cushioned with magic or pillows or snacks or whatever you brought that time.

He'd often stop by the diner you worked at to jokingly harass you as you served him, and to keep an eye on your creepy stalker customer who never got your hints.

Hell, the background picture on his phone was of the two of you in matching Ugly Christmas Sweaters, with you literally standing on a chair in order for all 5 feet of you to be tall enough to fit in the frame with him. His lock screen was your ridiculous matching Halloween costumes: Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. You even won the costume contest that night.

But somehow, even with all of that, it still caught him off guard. Even with the number of times Papyrus had mistaken you for his datemate (always saying “REALLY? STILL?” when he said you weren't dating), he never thought too hard about it.

Until that night.

You had come over despite his request to leave him alone. He was having one of his signature sick days, not as plentiful now as they were underground but he still had them.

He didn't think sunshine like you needed to be around such a big lump of melancholy, but apparently you disagreed. You didn't even bug him about it, just hung out like normal and watched Netflix while he mumbled his complaints.

Then it happened.

“work sucks.”

“Yeah, but you're good at it.”

“guess so. just don't have much time anymore. feel bad turnin’ ya down all the time.”

“Well I'm pretty flexible, so we can hang out at odd times. I don't mind.”

“you're too nice,” he sighed. Then, a whispered addition: “...i hate myself.”

“That's okay.”

He rolled over a bit to eye you, sitting cross-legged on the other end of the bed as you turned to smile at him.

“I'll just have to love you enough for the both of us, until you can see you the way I do!” You said softly, patting his femur reassuringly.

And all at once, it was all over for him.

* * *

At the time he had simply fallen silent in shock, trying desperately to figure out what you meant.

Life returned to normal for the two of you immediately, except for one thing--

\--he was now painfully aware of how desperately in love with you he was. Hearing you say it so casually had ignited something in his soul, a raging passion he had no intention of quenching. And knowing somebody cared about him that much, to say something like that, was...surreal. A reason to get up in the morning. He knew that in addition to his size, he was ornery and lewd by nature. He knew he could be endlessly frustrating and nihilistic, a bit of a drunken bastard, a lot of an asshole.

To hear that you love him, even platonically, was baffling. To hear that you would love him enough for both of you, that was...strangely effective.

He grew a little nervous around you. He masked it well, of course, but he was always fidgeting with something, sometimes even breaking it. You joked that he needed something to do with his hands, and he chuckled nervously and told you he had an idea, which made you blush adorably.

He found himself staring. A lot. Especially with the way you always draped your little body across his lap to watch TV or mess around on your phone. Especially when you wore circle skirts that highlighted the curves of your hips, and especially when you were wearing your cute little waitress outfit at the diner. 

And he always stared extra hard when you were talking to a guy. He studied your body language so closely throughout your friendship anyway, so he could tell if you liked them or if you were just being polite. 

If you were uncomfortable, he'd always come to loom behind you menacingly, but now there was an extra dash of terrifying to his visage when he scared creeps off.

But the worst was when you weren't uncomfortable. When you appeared...receptive. When you flirted. You aren't his, he knows that, you're a grown adult, but he couldn't help the twinge in his chest whenever you laughed and touched their arm, or stepped slightly closer to them than him. You were so beautiful and kind, it wasn't unlikely that you'd find someone just as kind as yourself and live happily ever after. 

He tried not to be jealous, but it was so hard to imagine the person you love might leave you someday.

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST ASK HER OUT?” Papyrus scoffed over coffee one morning. “AT LEAST TELL HER HOW YOU FEEL, OR STOP COMPLAINING! YOU SOUND RIDICULOUS.”

He supposed Papyrus was right--it was rare that he gave an opinion on Sans’ life at all, and he was usually very insightful despite his bravado.

“but i don't wanna fuck everythin’ up,” he mumbled. There was no way you had meant you loved him that way.

Was there?

* * *

You flopped onto your bed with a groan, another day with Sans to add to your “spank bank”, as your brother called it.

It was torture. You loved every second you spent with him but God, it was just...every time he touched you, your body lit up with excitement, and every time he joked with you, you grinned for hours afterward.

You suppose it’s silly, to be so hopelessly in love with someone like him. He doesn't even believe in love. How could you ever hope he'd love you?

But it doesn't matter, because you've been in love with him since the moment you met him. When he dipped you deep on the sidewalk downtown, his shocked sockets and flushed face had looked so adorable...and then you had realized how  _ big _ he was.

You groaned and rolled onto your side, pressing your legs together, embarrassed by the first thoughts that had ever run through your mind when you first saw him:

 

_ Damn, he’s big. _

_ I wonder if he has a dick. _

_...Is it as big as the rest of him? _

 

Yeah. You'd die before you ever told him that was what was running through your head when you invited him for coffee.

He'd probably never stop teasing you about it. You hadn't really expected him to become your best friend, with a start like that, but here you were, nearly a year later and still hopelessly head over heels for him. Your phone background was literally a picture of him pretending to flex, his huge muscle-like bones creating a handsome silhouette. His ring tone in your phone? Cupcakke’s “Deep Throat”, and he thinks it’s hilarious. Even though for you it is literally 100% serious.

...maybe he'd be down for friends with benefits? You'd considered it before, since he certainly enjoys sex enough, even if he doesn't have a lot of hookups. And you'd rather he called you than found another bimbo at a bar...you honestly hated showing up in the morning to witness some girl’s walk of shame, and even if it hadn't happened for a while you were still dreading the next time it would.

...today he had thrown you over his shoulder and carted you away from the store you were in, calling you a brat and laughing as you kicked in his firm grip. You had been so turned on by the way he just tossed you around, and by his teasing...you just wish he would have tossed you on his bed and teased you there.

“knock knock,” a familiar voice suddenly called, the sound of two heavy knocks on your bedroom door surprising you.

You giggled and sat up, blushing about the mental image you had just had before he decided to drop in. “Who's there?”

“asshole.”

Snrk. He's used this one. “Asshole who?”

“y’know which one. can i come in?”

“Of course,” you laughed, patting your hair to make sure it wasn't so bad.

The door opened and Sans moved awkwardly through the doorway, a sort of sideways shuffle that was always funny. You supposed that was why he always teleported everywhere.

It didn't really matter to you that he showed up at your place like this. Saved you a trip to the living room to buzz him in, and he's welcome anytime...plus you like to imagine that one day he'll show up and just kiss you fiercely.

Even though it'll never happen, it's a nice thought.

“Couldn't get enough of me?” You asked sweetly, smirking up at him as he sunk into the mattress beside you. You had only left him a couple of hours ago, because you'd needed groceries and things before you went home.

“i don't think it’s possible to have enough of ya,” he chuckled, before making eye contact with you and…

...promptly looking away, seemingly embarrassed.

“...Sans, is everything okay?” You asked, placing a concerned hand on his arm.

“yeah, yeah,” he says quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “just, uh...you know you're my favorite human, right? my best friend?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeeeeessss?”

“oh. okay. good. just checking.”

“Oooookaaaayyyy….Cryptic friendship messages aside, what’s up? Just wanna Netflix or somethin’?” You prodded, trying to draw him from whatever funk he was in. Strange, considering he hadn’t been in one earlier when you saw him.

“yeah, but, uh...i was thinking that, uh...fuck. i’m fucking this all up, hold on.”

He got up awkwardly and exited the room, closing the door and confounding you even further. He knocked twice.

“Uh...who’s there?” You asked.

“It’s Sans.”

“Sans who?” You tried.

“....uh. Just Sans.” He said slowly, sounding embarrassed. You gather he hadn't been trying to joke, which makes you chuckle as you swing the door open.

“Hello, Just Sans,” you teased, but he didn't grin like he usually did. “Dude, are you alright? You've been weird since you got here.”

He sighed, visibly sweating as he shifted his weight...and pulled a bouquet of flowers out of nowhere.

“uh. so. i know you don't think of me, like...romantically or anythin’. but, uh, i think’a you that way and boss keeps tellin’ me not t’just sit on my feelings because they'll just get worse and he's tired’a my complainin’ and…” he paused for half a tick, and then shoved the flowers at you. “so, uh, i guess m’tryna ask you out, for formality’s sake. but you don't gotta say yes, you know, i just...couldn’t keep it all in. anymore. because. uh.”

You stared at him for a long moment, making him sweat even more as he shifted from foot to foot nervously.

He gently took your hand and placed the bouquet in it, stepping back with a bit of a panicked look in his face.

“alright, you know, i get it, i knew. keep those, and. uh. i’ll just. go.”

“Wait--”

But he didn't wait, he closed his eyes and teleported back to his room, ready to remind himself that he knew, he knew, he shouldn't be so upset. To work on getting it together, break down in peace, away from you, and build back up until he can plaster on his grin again and claim it was a joke.

As his feet hit the carpet of his room and opening his eyes, though, he realized he had not traveled through the void alone--you were there, bewildered, flowers gone as you gripped the fabric of his jacket and swayed slightly on your feet. Without thinking, he reached down to steady you--

\--and you used his arms to vault up and latch to his front, as you'd done a thousand times before, and he naturally supported you up against his chest as you kissed him, a kiss that put any other to shame. He groaned and kissed you back, your heartbeat echoing in his head as he slipped his tongue against yours with fervor.

You melted against him, making a satisfied, desperate noise, before slowly pulling away and looking up at his surprised, pleased expression.

“I said wait, you doofus,” you complained, punching his shoulder weakly. “You know, usually when asking somebody out, you actually let them answer before you run off.”

He stared at you, unsure how to respond. You followed him...he could have dropped you in the void, but you followed him anyway. You're here, and you  _ kissed him, _ and he's holding you up in his arms like he's done a million times but, oh, it feels different, it feels so much better, so much closer.

“...s...sorry,” he mumbled dumbly, face flushing with embarrassment.

“Don't be, dummy,” you chuckled, pressing another kiss to the bridge of his nasal bone, prompting him to lean closer. “It’s yes, by the way. I literally thought you would never ask.”

“....but why?” He asked quietly. “why waste your time on me?”

“I told you already, didn't I? I love you, enough for both of us,” you said softly, hands sliding to cup his huge skull gently. “And loving you is never a waste of time.”

“you’re crazy,” he chuckled, before kissing you slowly, hesitantly, as if you might pull away. He sunk down onto his mattress, your little legs wrapping around him naturally to straddle him. “...i like that.”

“Usually the proper response is ‘I love you, too’ but you're obviously still posturing to cover up your crippling fear of this whole situation, so I'll let it slide,” you teased, and he blushed a deep crimson, chuckling along nervously. “But...if you aren't ready...they say you need to love yourself first.”

“that's the biggest load of crap i ever heard,” he scoffed. “i ain't ever loved myself. look at me! i'm a piece of shit wrapped in a vaguely funny package. i'm nothin’.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's not--”

“but you?” He chuckled, one large hand cupping your cheek, curling around the back of your head delicately. “i’ve always loved you. maybe didn't know it, but always. i’ve always loved you, more than the sun or the stars, more than any amount of money, more than myself a thousand times over...i love you so much that sometimes i even forget how it feels to hate myself.”

He was blushing, but he didn't care. You were blushing, too, and smiling up at him shyly with those perfect eyes that sparkled with trust and affection. How long he had wished for the courage to think that look might be love...and here he is, like a freaking greeting card spouting lovey dovey bullshit.

But...it felt right.  _ You _ felt right. Not just your waist beneath his fingertips, and not just the brush of your lips against his teeth as you kissed him again.

He'd never believed in fate, but he was glad he hadn't before--if he had, he might have ended up chasing some barista instead of where he was right now, with you.

Yeah. Now is a good time to start believing in Destiny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed these two silly snugglebugs. I am just a sucker for the trope where they both love each other but also both think the other doesn't. I'm also a sucker for fate stories.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [All that is Drabbles and Trash](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274858) by [Nocivenox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocivenox/pseuds/Nocivenox)




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